After FYI Pt 2: Murphy in Purple and Gold
by Ms.M
Summary: UPDATED AND CORRECTED: Part 2 of After FYI: With all the FYIer's moving on with their lives will Murphy live in the past or take steps toward the future.
1. CHAPTER ONE: Occupation

**AFTER FYI: **Part Two

Murphy in Purple and Gold

* * *

**Chapter One**: RE-OCCUPATION

* * *

**NEW YORK CITY - LATER THAT NIGHT**

Rachel Margolis "Gold" sat at her desk asleep "at the wheel". She had begun the night with an assignment for herself. The assignment had been to relax, but unfortunately it hadn't worked. Since it was one of the first Fridays she had to herself, in a long time, Rachel had decided to catch up on some reading, maybe clean up her apartment, and just all and all make it an early night. She was on call for the weekend at work, and for the last two weeks was so behind on sleep her body felt like a sack of potatoes, heavy and caving in on its self. But Rachel, being Rachel, her brain cooked up an amazing idea for a story on the way back from the laundry to her apartment. All of which was perhaps a two-minute walk. So while typing away, all her thoughts from her head to the screen, she somehow ended up with her head on top of her laptop instead of the contents inside it.

Her "nap" lasted form precisely 7:02pm to 8:35pm on the nose when it was interrupted by the drone of her buzzer and the yelping of her small dog. Rachel shot her head up and took a large breath in through her nose. She opened her month and rolled her tongue over her gums and teeth, as a deterrent from the sleep taste in her month. She pushed her hair out of her face and mouth, still in a sense of confusion as to where she was, how she got there, and what was going on. This was a woman still in dreamland. The buzzer sounded again and Rachel made her way to the buzzer-intercom in the kitchen. She pushed the button with a groggy, hello.

"It's Miles," said the voice on the other end of the line.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing - can I come up?"

Rachel let go of the talk button and buzzed Miles in. She stumbled through the kitchen, as she slid her hands through her hair and scratched the back of her head with her thumbnails, before letting out a sigh. She then cleared the kitchen and made her way to the door at just the right moment to open it for Miles.

"Happy Birthday!" Miles grinned with his soft sweet smile and bright eyes.

"Thanks, but my birthday isn't until next week," she said confused.

"I know, but I just found out I'll be out of town, so I thought we could celebrate tonight."

"Tonight?"

"These are for you." Miles handed Rachel a small bouquet of roses from behind his back

"Ah, Miles, you didn't have to…" Rachel smiled.

"I know how you love having fresh flowers around... And I noticed you haven't had any around lately." Miles walked into the doorway and Rachel closed the door behind them.

"Well, money's been tight lately." She walked through the living room towards the kitchen.

Miles followed her. "What happened to that trust fund of yours?" Miles asked sarcastically.

"It's not a _trust fund_ Miles! What am I Princess Grace? It's just some money my father set aside for me. Besides, I used most of it for college - there's not a lot left."

"If you're in need of cash?" Miles reached for his wallet.

"No, Miles. I don't want your money." Rachel crossed the threshold of the kitchen.

"It would just be a few hundred - you wouldn't even _have_ to pay me back." Miles leaned on the doorframe of the kitchen while Rachel took a vase out of her cabinet and filled it with water.

"No, _Miles_, how many times do I have to tell you I don't want to have to on relay on others...for anything. I want to be able to make my own way without any help from others."

"Yes... you "don't to rely on others, for food, shelter, or reputation. I know." Miles rolled the back of his head around the doorframe. This was a conversation in many forms they had had before.

"Yes, Miles, I demand respect. _Respect_ and _trust_. Is there anything wrong with that?" Rachel ran the roses under the faucet and cut their ends. "...ok, this conversation has become redundant." She looked over at Miles.

"What about your father's money? You can take his and not mine?" Miles asked innocently.

"Oh, no. That money is mine. I_ earned_ that money. That was money _owed me_. The day he left. Oh, can we not talk about my father!" Rachel looked over at Miles and changed the topic quickly. "What's in your hand?" She turned the faucet off and placed the roses in the vase.

"Oh, this is also for you." Miles reached out his hand and presented a small cardboard box.

"Dog biscuits?" Rachel dried her hand on a small dishtowel.

"They're for the dog."

"_I know, Miles_." Rachel threw the towel down and rolled her eyes. "You're afraid I'm going to kill it aren't you?" She picked up the vase and set it on her kitchen table.

"No. Of course _not_."

"Well, you should! I don't know why you decided to get me a _puppy_ of all things." She moved the vase slightly and looked back at it until she was happy with its position. "_You know,_ I still don't feel right keeping it." She spun around to face Miles.

"It was a gift." Miles adjusted the side of his glasses.

"Yes, a makeup gift that _didn't work_."

"You told me you didn't like it when I bought you jewelry to apologize." Miles became very adamant with his hands, as he often did.

"I meant _the gifts,_ Miles. I didn't want you to think you could buy me off with _gifts_."

"It was something Frank told me to do." He squished his brow

"From what you've told me about Frank why am I not surprised." Rachel walked over to the refrigerator and Miles crossed the kitchen and sat down at the kitchen table.

"Whenever we would walk past that pet store you always stopped to look at the black dogs. You said they were cute? I thought it would be a _sweet gesture_?'

"I also comment on how cute the babies are in their strollers. It doesn't mean I want you to _give me one_!" She took an orange juice container out of the fridge and slammed the door shut. "Do you want anything?"

"No." He refused with his hand, as well as his words.

"I'll take the dog back if you really want?" He leaned forward in his chair.

"No." Rachel took a swig of the orange juice and leaned back against the refrigerator. "I already named her. I'm _officially_ a dog person. I am now the _epitome _of the _pathetic single New Yorker_."

"Come on, let me take you out?" Miles could see the sadness in a face he knew so well.

"We're not dating anymore, Miles, you don't have to do this?"

"I know, but we decided to be friends, _right_? _This is_ what friends do. They do things for each other, you're _my_ _friend_ and I want to take you out for your birthday. So when you're sitting home alone when _you really_ turn twenty-five you won't feel depressed you _didn't_ do anything."

"I have work I should be doing. I got this idea and if I get it into Russ by tomorrow..."

"You can't work yourself so hard."

"I have to if I want to keep succeeding…"

"You're fine where you are? If there's one thing I've learned its pace yourself. _I may not be able to follow it, but I leaned it_."

"By my age _Murphy Brown_ was a _foreign correspondent_. By the _time _she was twenty-nine she was the anchor of a major _news_ program. And when she turned thirty-nine she was on the cover of People magazine, _Time_, had an Emmy, and I don't know how many _Humbolts_! And was at the height of her profession!"

"And at _forty_ she checked herself into _Betty Ford._ Do you want that?"

"I don't drink, Miles!"

"That's not the point. She drove herself into the ground. It didn't have to be _alcohol_ or _cigarettes_..."

"If you're trying to say that I'm going to turn into my mother you're so wrong!"

"No, I'm just saying..." Miles got serious. "I love _Murphy,_ but she _always_ and _still _does _drive herself_ too hard. I don't want to see that happened to you."

"Maybe you should take some of your own advice."

"I'm not as ambitious as you are."

"By _twenty-five_ you were the executive producer of a national news magazine!"

"And look at me, _I'm divorced_, I spent all my time at work, I have _ulcers_ the size of most undeveloped countries…" Miles made a face and dipped his fingers into his side.

"Miles?" Rachel ran over to him.

"I'm fine." He pushed her away with his hand and made his way over to a chair.

Rachel ran to the refrigerator and seized a bottle of water and handed it to Miles.

"You have your pills?"

Miles shock his head and took a small prescription bottle from his pocket. He downed two of the capsules with some water and leaned back. Rachel stood behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Miles relaxed and rubbed her arm to signal he was all right

"Ok, I'll get changed." She rested her chin on Miles head. She stared at the vase in the center of the table. "Where did you ever find _orange flowers_?"

"Orange? I thought they were peach?"

"No, those are _orange_?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Those are orange." She nodded her head.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Miles."

"But peach are your favorite roses."

"Orange is in the peach family," she tried to make him feel better.

"True."

"I'm going to get changed." Rachel laughed and walked out of the kitchen. A moment later, Miles little "makeup present" breezed into the room and up to Miles feet. He leaned down to pet the dog's forehead

"What did you name her?"

"What?" Rachel yelled from the bedroom

"The dog!" he yelled. Miles looked up as Rachel's head peered around the counter of the doorway, making Miles realize he didn't have to yell anymore. "What did you name her?"

"Nellie Blye."

"Nellie Byle?"

"Yeah...the first _female investigative reporter_."

"Oh, her."

"You had no idea." She tilted her head at him.

"Yes, I did." Miles tried to cover for his blunder.

"No, you didn't." Rachel laughed and walked back into the bedroom.

Miles stood up and tossed his fingers through his hair. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes with his other hand.

Not too long later Rachel entered the living room, where Miles sat waiting. She wore a simple black cocktail dress and very little make-up. It was a rush job, but her natural beauty didn't need much. That was at least what Miles always thought. She checked her purse for all the contents she needed and walked towards the door. Miles stood up and smiled at her. Rachel smiled back. Then Miles opened the door for Rachel and the two went to dinner.

_"I'm, I'm so in love with you.  
Whatever you want to do  
it's alright with me  
'Cause you make me feel, so brand new.  
And I want to spend my life with you_

_Me sayin' since, Baby, since we've been together  
Ooo, loving you forever  
Is what I need  
Let me, be the one you come running to  
I'll never be untrue  
Ooo, Baby._

**Let's Stay Together ~ Al Green**

* * *

**_LATER THAT NIGHT: In Washington D.C_**

Murphy lay on her bed with her laptop resting on her legs. She typed away furiously, keeping her eyes glued to the screen. So much so that when Jerry appeared in the doorway she acknowledged his presence with only a small eye glance from behind her glasses, and then back to the screen. This was of course more for the benefit of trying to ignore what had caused Jerry to leave in the first place. She squished her lips together in an attempt to mask the fact that she didn't care he was home, when in fact she did. Jerry stood awkwardly at the door, out of his own uncertainty as to what emotions his actions had left Murphy in.

"Hey." Jerry looked at Murphy.

"Hey." Murphy didn't look at Jerry. Jerry walked over to the dresser and took off his watch, tossing it in-between Murphy's earrings and necklaces. "You left your wallet downstairs." Murphy's typing faded in and out with her words.

"Yeah, I got it." Jerry took his wallet out from his back pocket and threw it next to his watch.

"Kay left the tape if you want to take look at it." Murphy threw a black cassette tape from her nightstand on to the bed in-between her and Jerry.

As the tape hit the bed Jerry turned around and looked at it. Murphy glanced out from under her glasses to catch his reaction, and then quickly back to the computer screen, so that Jerry wouldn't catch her staring. This whole exchange was cold, and nonchalant. Again, Murphy tried to pretend she didn't care when she really did. Jerry looked at the tape for another moment as if a lead weight had hit the floor.

"Yeah." Jerry turned around, took off his jacket before throwing it on an empty chair. Jerry began to take his tie off and there was another silence, as Jerry loosened the knot around his neck and slowly slid the tie off. He whipped the tie onto the chair and looked at himself in the mirror above the dresser. He looked unhappy with himself.

"Jerry…"

"Murphy, I don't want to talk about it!" He pushed her off with a gesture of his hands, only slightly moving his head to speak to her.

"Ok, I just thought if you can't talk to me about it..."

"Murphy!" Jerry spun around. "I'm _just not_ ready to talk about it now! _But believe me,_ when I _am,_ you'll be the first person I go to, ok. So, can we just drop the _sub_ject?"

"Ok." Murphy face still remained frozen and seriousness.

"Thank you!" Jerry sat down on the corner of the bed and began to take off his shoes.

Murphy went back to work. "Oh, Ira called while you were gone," Murphy voice's spurt up, having just remembered the thought.

"Yeah, he called me on my cell." Jerry ran his fingers through his hair and scratched the back of his head with his thumbnails before letting out a sigh.

"Is it about the Viacom job?"

"Yeah, he wants me to go to New York for a couple of days, _have a_ few meetings with Viacom, maybe a few smaller outfits. Help me narrow down my choices, _my decisions_."

"When are your leaving?"

"I catch the red eye tomorrow." Jerry took his socks off, balled them up and threw them on the ground.

"Tomorrow? So soon?"

"Ira says they're all _getting_ _antsy_," he spoke, as if he half believed it. "I have to make a decision soon, before they withdraw them all together. I can't keep _dragging_ my _feet_." This part Jerry sounded like he believed.

Jerry pushed his hands into his knees, let out a loud grunt, and rose from the bed. He turned and looked at Murphy.

"But, Jerry, you're moving into your new apartment tomorrow?"

"I don't have to be there when they move in! I'll just leave the _key_."

"Well, I see you've _thought_ of everything." Murphy peered from behind her glasses again. They rode even father down on her nose; she was irritated.

"_Jeez_, don't look at me that way! You look like my grandmother when you do that with your glasses…" He took off his pinky ring and placed it next to his watch, and his wallet. "You should do what I did, have that laic surgery."

"No, way. I like my glasses _just fine_ thank you."

"It's no big deal. In and out. You're awake through the whole thing. You see and hear everything the doctors are doing. I had no problems. Of course all my doctors were speaking _German_."

"I told myself I would _never_ have another surgery for the rest of my life if I could at all _help it._"

Jerry again spread his fingers through his hair and scratched the back of his head with his thumbnails. He could tell something was bothering her."What's wrong, Brown?"

"Nothing..." She took a breath. "I just thought we set tonight out for _us_. You're last night in the house and all." Murphy put on her makeshift guilt voice. "But if other things are more important... well then fine." Murphy was a bad actress when it came to these situations, but knowing her the way Jerry did, it made it easier to read her mood.

"The night is still young. My flights not until noon." Jerry got a devilish look on his face. "I was going to take a shower."

"You go ahead." Murphy didn't look at him.

"I thought you could join me?!"

"I'm a little busy here, Jer…" Again she looked only at the screen.

"What happened to "_this night was set aside for us_"?"

"That was _before_ you decided to _leave_." Murphy seemed quite pleased with herself. "So, I decided to do some work. I happened to be in a _groove_, I'd _rather_ not stop."

"Yeah, well I was hoping to get my own _groove going_ here." Jerry raised his eyebrows.

"Go take a SHOWER, _Jerry!" s_he smirked at him.

Jerry frowned and walked towards the bathroom and his side of the bed. He plopped himself on the bed next to Murphy. "What are you working on that's so important!?" He folded his arms and tried to sneak a peek at Murphy's screen, but she quickly slammed the laptop closed.

She turned her head toward him crossly. "Since when do _you_ care!?"

"I don't. I just wanted to be close enough to you to do this." Jerry slid his hand around the back of Murphy's head and pulled her close for a long kiss, gentle at first, and then long and passionate. Murphy kissed him back. They begin to rise to their knees while Murphy slid her laptop off her lap with her right hand and then rested her arms around Jerry's neck. With the laptop out of the way Jerry and Murphy quickly slithered down onto the bed. Murphy giggled, and Jerry chuckled.

_Got to be there (got to be there)  
Got to be there in the morning  
When she says hello to the world_

_Got to be there (got to be there)  
Got to be there in her down time  
And show her that she´s my girl  
Ooo, what a feeling there´ll be  
The moment I know she loves me  
Cause when I look in her eyes I realize  
I need her sharing the world beside me_

**Got to be There ~ Jackson 5**

Early, that morning, well early in Murphy terms, Jerry kissed Murphy on the head and snuck out of bed. By the time Murphy woke up, he was gone; his plane had left the terminal and was off to New York. She hadn't even heard him leave. The last thing she remembered was failing a sleep in his arms, only to walk up sprawled out over the entire bed.

It was Saturday, which meant she didn't have to be at work, she would work from home. Not that it mattered because for the last month Murphy had not had a regular nine to five job, make that in Murphy's case a ten to eleven a.m. to whenever- type job. Being the only on air talent on her own show, there were no story meetings to attend, and with no air date, or executive producer in site, no film days either. It was only out of habit that she never went into the office on weekends. It wasn't like she went into the office too much during the week. It really depended on her mood whether she worked at home, or the office, as well as two other factors: Eldin and Avery. She wanted to stay home with her son as much as she could, but if it became too difficult to concentrate it was another reason to go to the office. But in the end, it came down to one thing, going to an office Monday through Friday gave Murphy that feeling of having a job, that feeling that nothing had changed.

As for the limbo situation of her special it was entirely the network's fault, that and the three executive producers who backed out on her. Murphy seemed to be going through executive producers lately like she did with secretaries and telephones. If things didn't work out soon Murphy through she might have to storm the evening news just to get her stories on the air. But like a belligerent bear stuck in a trap she was forced to wait it out. Murphy got dressed and checked her messages.

"Hey, Murph, it's me." It was Frank. "Why is it whenever I call you get this machine? We got to stop playing phone tag like this. We're on our way back from the Hamptons. Call my cell, ok?" There was a pause. "...I miss ya... talk to ya soon."

Murphy picked up the phone and called Frank's cell phone only to get his voicemail. "Frank, it's Murphy. I'm at home. Call me." She hung up the phone and made her way downstairs. All she could think of was how hungry she was and how all the fiber of her being had no desire what-so-ever to make anything worth consummation. As Murphy hit the last step, into the foyer, the doorbell rang. To her delightful surprise she opened the door to find Frank standing there.

"Frank?" Her face widened with a large grin. "I just called you," she said with surprise.

"Yeah, with all this phone tag we've been playing, and our faulty cell phones I thought I should just stop by. Do you know yours is broken?"

"Yeah, and so is the pollster who threw it in the reflecting pool."

"_Man,_ Murph, didn't you lose your last one that why?"

"No, I ran that one over with my _car_."

"What was it doing under your car?"

"_I put it there_. Frank, why are you just standing there, come on in." Frank peered around the corner of the doorway.

"Is he here?" Frank whispered.

"Who, Frank_, deep throat_? Because you know that's not 'till next week," she said sarcastically.

"No, HIM," Frank continued to whisper.

Murphy rolled her eyes and head at him. "You mean _Jerry, _Frank! No, he's not her! In fact, he's out of town at the moment."

"Oh, well then." Frank smiled and walked into the room confidently, but then stopped. 'He's not coming home anytime soon is he?"

"No, _Frank_, he's away for a week, and actually he has his _own_ home now."

"Really!?" Franks face beamed.

"We're still together, Frank!" Murphy shut the door.

"Damn." Frank made a childlike face and lowered his head.

"I thought we said we would talk about other things."

"Sorry."

"Give me a hug." Frank and Murphy embraced for a quick hug.

"Ah, Frank, it's so good to see you. I missed you like crazy."

"Yeah, I love Lesley, but she can't talk sports to save her life…" Frank laughed. "I was thinking we could spend the day together?" Frank gave Murphy a huge smile. "Unexpectedly, I have a clear day. How about it?" he said scarcasticly.

"I'd like that." She smiled.

"What shall we do?" Frank wrapped his arm around Murphy's neck and the two walked into the living room. "We could go to Phil's, or see a movie, have some lunch?"

"Ohh, food. I could go for some breakfast. Let me just get dressed."

"Check."

Murphy turned and walked towards the foyer and stopped. "Frank?"

"Yeah." Frank turned his head "On second thought. Would you just mind if we just _frittered_ around the house together? I've got playing cards? We could order in?"

"Yeah, I'd like that. And I think the Maltase Falcon is on channel nine tonight." Frank rubbed his hands together and the two smiled at each other. Murphy walked over to her desk and took out a stack of playing cards. She lobbed them into her hand like she was packing a pack of cigarettes and walked towards the couch.

* * *

**ONE WEEK LATER: New York City**

Miles walked through the hallways of CBS News. He was the big kahuna there and he walked with a stride of confidence. It happened to be a good week filled with winning stories and nothing bad to jumble the somewhat fragile man. Miles breezed into his office and quickly checked the AP on his computer.

"Want lunch?" Rachel stuck her head in.

"Rachel." He was glad to see her.

"I don't have much time. Chinese on the corner?" Her face gleamed.

"Sure." He smiled. "Give me a moment." Miles started to fiddle on the computer and Rachel sat on the windowsill and lit up a cigarette. She opened the large window and blew the smoke out into the air. Miles was going to say something, but he knew his attempts, at Rachel's request no less, to tell her to stop smoking wouldn't work

Since he was the executive producer of the CBS Evening News Miles Sliverberg's office was big and roomy. There was a couch, and a kitchen he almost never used because who had the time, televisions, and wall to wall carpeting. It was a vision in greys and blacks.

Miles phone rang. He picked it up and placed it next to his ear. "Yeah?... Really?.. Yeah! Send him in!"

"Hey, Miles!" Frank Fontana burst into the room excited to see his old friend.

"Frank, _buddy,_ how are ya?" Miles and Frank gave each other a manly shaking hands and pat on the back type hug. "What are you _doing in town_?"

"Lesley and I are on our way to the Hamptons I thought I'd stop by and say hi."

"Well, hi!"

"Frank, you remember, Rachel."

"Hi, Frank." Rachel looked towards Frank with a smile. She didn't want to put out her cigarette.

"Of course. We played a mean game of pool the last time I was here." Frank turned to Miles. "And she came to my wedding."

"Yes, and I thank you for asking me, Frank. It was a beautiful service."

"It was, wasn't it?" Frank beamed.

"Speaking of your _bride_. Where is she?" Miles looked out the door.

"Lesley's buying baby clothes on Fifth Ave." Frank clasped his hands together. "I thought we could have lunch. Catch up."

"Well, I was having lunch with Rachel..."

"You too go ahead." Rachel blew a puff of smoke out the window.

"You should come with us?" Frank chimed in.

"No, you guys want to catch up - I don't want to be a bother." Rachel looked out the window as if she noticed something. "Hey, you!" she screamed. "Get off my car!" She looked at Frank and Miles. "He's leaning on my _news van_!" Rachel leaned farther out the window. "Yeah, I mean you! _Get. Off. The_. _Car_!"

Frank started to stare at Rachel's backside, as her body crept further out the window, revealing the shape of her body in her blue dress. Miles noticed this and hit Frank on the arm.

"What?'" Frank whispered flinching away to avoid further abuse.

"You're a married man!" Miles whispered back.

"Yeah, I'm not _dead_." Frank straightened up.

"You want me coming down there? Yeah! _Yeah!"_ Rachel popped back up into the office looking heated and ready for battle.

"Some _hood_ is jumping on my hood. I gotta take care of this." She grabbed her purse and handed Frank her lit cigarette. "Here take this for me." Frank took it, but didn't know what to do with it. "I'll see you later, Miles."

"Want to have dinner next week?" Miles eyes lit up.

"Sure. Give me a call." She turned to Frank. "Nice seeing you again, Frank."

Frank smiled and watched her leave. Miles took an old Tums bottle from a drawer and gave it to Frank to put the cigarette out in.

"Where do you want to go to eat?" Miles walked behind his desk. "There's this great pub two blocks down... Now, where did I put that menu for it... it has the address."

Frank nodded his head like he knew something special and began to tease Miles. He had a huge smile on his face. "You still have a thing for her, don't you?

"Who… Rachel?'

"No. Margaret Trudeau," he said sarcastically. "Yeah – Rachel."

"That's _old news_."

"Not to _you_ and I'm _not sure_ to her either." Frank voice had the tint of a child like taunting.

"What? She was the one who broke up with me. Really? Because I have been getting these vibes lately. No, no..." He shook it off.

"I was _right,_ you **do**! And why not, the body on..." Frank walked closer to Miles.

"Frank!"

"Ohh, it's worse _than I thought_!" Frank leaned in towards Miles, as he reached the front of his desk. "We're just friends. Just friends."

"I'm telling you, Miles, you two have unresolved feelings for each other. I know these things. I have developed a _very good_ system over the years for women in this way. How do you think I got Lesley to marry me?" Frank seemed very sure of himself.

"You knocked her up."

"Hey!"

"I'm sorry, Frank." Miles pushed his glasses up the brow of his nose. "But we all know it's true. Doesn't mean you _don't_ love each other, but we all knew there were only two ways you were getting married. That was either by way of brain damage or faulty birth control. And with your reckless behavior on the job... either way it was a fifty-fifty shot."

"Listen, there's more than that. You have to charm first...oh, what am I saying." Frank sat down on Miles executive couch and buried his head in his hands.

"You really think she still has a thing for me? I mean what should I do?" Miles stopped and laughed insecurely. "Look at me; I'm taking advice from a man who has a "ladies system"…" Miles made little quotes with his fingers. "That took him over _fifty years_ to _per_-_fect_!" Miles sadly grabbed his coat. "Come on, Frank, let's go eat." Miles looked like Linus dragging his blanket behind him.

"You know she reminds me of someone and I can't figure out who?" Frank followed behind.

* * *

**ABOUT THE SAME TIME**

Jerry Gold walked out of his meeting at thirty Rockefeller Plaza and decided to take a walk. It was a sunny summer day with a slight wind, so much of a wind it caused people, such as Jerry to wear a light trench coat. He took out his cell phone and tried to call Murphy on her cell phone, but he got a message that it was disconnected. Jerry was not surprised by this since Murphy seemed to be going through cell phones lately like she did secretaries. He called her at home, but hung up before the message asked him to leave one after the beep. He was going to try her at the office, but then he decided it felt too clingy, so he didn't.

_There she goes…  
There she goes again  
Racing through my brain  
And I just can't contain  
this feeling that remains_

_There she goes…  
There she goes again  
Pulsing through my veins  
And I just can't contain  
This feeling that remains._

**There she goes ~ Boo Radleys**

Somehow he found himself around the CBS building – aka "The Black Rock Building". He wasn't sure if it was by accident or subconsciously that he had made his way past the building. It was the second time that week it had happened. He walked past the _Twenty-One_ restaurant and their array of lawn jockeys until he stood across the street from the CBS building. He dug his hands in his pocket and a gust of wind blew his coat. He stared at the building like he wanted to go in, but he didn't.

He wasn't there for a moment or two when Rachel came bursting out of the building. He watched as two hooligans took sight of her and ran off a Channel 2 News van. She slide opened the large door and took out her coat. Jerry was surprised to see her. He wasn't expecting her to just be there. It seemed like another weird coincidence.

He figured he'd stand there, like last time, just thinking about going in to see her, but never actually doing it. Rachel threw her coat on and took out her cigarette case releasing one from its small sliver coffin to her lips. She lit it and stood there with her smoking arm in the air and the other around her waist. After a moment, a group of men, who looked like cameramen, came up to her and bummed a cigarette off her. They laughed, but she looked uncomfortable for a moment. Then, one of the men went into the van and she looked fine.

Jerry just watched her. He felt strange. Like he was spying, but he couldn't look away. The man from the van came out and singled them to come in. Rachel tossed her cigarette to the ground, turned towards Jerry and snuffed it out with her shoe. Jerry saw that she was turning towards him and began to make his quick exit. Rachel caught sight of him as he walked away. Not enough to fully recognize him, yet just enough to get a funny feeling. The other cameraman got her attention and she walked away, looking back one more time before entering the van and sliding the door shut with a loud bang.

* * *

**ALMOST TWO WEEK LATER**

Murphy sat at her usual table in a lightly crowed Phil's. In fact, it was a perfect crowd; if there ever was such a thing as a perfect crowd of anything. She was waiting for Frank. He was a half an hour late. She looked at her watch, ordered another club soda, and looked at her watch again.

"Waiting for Jerry?" Phil came up to Murphy on her right side.

"No Frank - he's late. _Jerry's_ in New York."

"Still? I'd think it wouldn't take that long to negotiate a contract?"

"He's not _negotiating a contract,_ Phil - he's meeting with potential offers."

"Oh." Phil looked away.

"What do you mean by "Oh", Phil? Phil, what do you know?" Murphy looked at him intently.

"Nothing, I was just wrong."

"Phil, you're never wrong."

"I think Jerry should tell you."

_"Phil?"_

"It's not my place, Murphy."

"Phil..."

"Ok, ok." Phil leaned in closer. "Let's just say from what I heard he went to New York for _one job_ only."

"Why would Jerry spend two weeks in New York having meetings for _one job_, when he has so many other offers?"

"Not any more, Murphy."

"Phil, what are your talking about?"

"Word from the grapevine says that _Jerry's waited_ so long to decide on which job to _take_, that most of them have resided their _offers. M_oved on to new prospects."

Murphy looked stunned. "Why would he wait so long?"

"Beats me." Phil gave Murphy that all knowing look. It was the glint in his eye. His guess: the reason was Murphy.

"Well, I'm sure I just _miss understood Jerry_ and he'll tell me _all_ about it when he comes back from New York. It's no big deal." She tried to sound like she wasn't hurt.

Finally, Frank burst through the door.

"Well, here's Frank." Phil walked away. "I'll be back to take your order."

"Murph, I'm sorry I'm late. I got stuck in traffic."

"Where? On the Beltway?"

"No, the Long Island Expressway."

"Frank, you're just getting back from the Hampton's _now_!"

"Lesley isn't feeling so well, so she's saying up at the house, so I didn't get a change to leave until this morning. I wanted to make-sure she was alright."

"Ah. Well as long as she and the babies are ok."

"Yes, of course." Frank looked around the room. "Did you order?"

"No, I was waiting for you." Murphy looked around for Phil. "Phil should be right back. He was just here."

Frank looked around the room again. "Did you talk with...anyone else while you were waiting?"

"No, Frank, why?" Murphy got a weird feeling.

"No reason, no reason." Frank looked around again.

Murphy stared at Frank strangely and then decided not to make anything of it. "So, did you land Hammerstein as your executive producer?" Murphy inched her chair closer to Frank. "Or is he still _whining_ about how commercial news magazines are. This from a man who started out doing infomercials. Ha." She threw her head to the side.

"No, I got someone better, remember that..."

"Frank?" A strong male voice came from behind Frank.

Murphy looked up to see a very good-looking man in his mid-forties standing by their table. He was tall, dark, and very good-looking, just Murphy's type. Frank gazed up and seemed to make an over exaggeration of how much he knew the man. This made Murphy suspicious.

"Harry Terrill? Funny running into you here?" Frank turned to Murphy. "Harry and I play rocket ball at the club."

"Really? Nice to meet you, Harry." Murphy looked around. "Where is Phil?"

"And you're Murphy Brown." Murphy swung her head around, as Harry extended his hand to Murphy." And my I say you're more beautiful in person then on television. A goddess really."

"You can say anything you want." Murphy smiled and extended her hand, being the sucker for a good-looking man and a nice compliment that she was.

Harry took Murphy's hand and kissed it instead of shaking it. This took Murphy by surprise. She pulled her hand away. There was long pause while Harry just gawked at Murphy in a way that made her very uneasy. Usually, Murphy wouldn't mind it, but since the pursuing was not mutual, it bothered her.

"Well, Harry, why don't you join us?" Frank broke the silence.

"I'd love too." Harry pulled up a chair.

"Well, actually, Harry, this was sort of a private lunch between Frank and I so..."

Harry looked at Frank and then at Murphy and back at Frank again. He looked like he was looking for something to say.

"Oh, come on, Murph..." Frank waved the idea off with his hand.

"Really, Frank. I've had a really horrible week. I can't get a _producer_. Avery developed _a fixation_ on _knock, knock jokes_, and I think I saw my new secretary on _American's Most Wanted_ last night. Seeing you, taking to you… is the only thing I look forward too. Today of all days I don't feel like being polite!"

"But, Murphy!" Frank whispered.

"It's ok, Frank." Harry pushed back his chair, and stood up. "But you are completely charming."

"Excuse me!?" Murphy spun her head around, again.

"How about we finish this little talk over a nice dinner at Sardella's?" Harry leaned in so close to Murphy she could smell his cheap after-shave.

"Listen. _Harry. _While all of this is _very flattering_. I'm seeing someone right now." Murphy's ego was at its zenith.

"You are?"

"Yes, I am." Murphy laughed, in way that said, "yes, I'm taken so suffer."

Harry turned to Frank. "Frank, I thought you said she was hard-up for dates?"

"FRANK!" Murphy's voice grated like nails on a chalkboard.

Frank pretended he didn't know what was going on with incomplete gibberish like sentences. Harry got up from the table and excused himself.

"I don't believe you?" Murphy paused for a moment, as she correlated the ideas in her head. "It's all making sense know."

"What?" Frank looked down and around the room. Any place, but into Murphy's eyes.

"Why is it that everyplace we go this week we just happen to run into eligible men you know?"

"What are your talking about?" Frank laughed it off.

"The baseball game, the office, _the cleaners_?"

"What are your talking about?" Frank was sometimes just as bad at lying as Murphy was.

"How is it that your lawyer just _happened_ to show up at that basketball game, you're trainer at the movies, and that guy at your poker game who kept wanting to play strip poker with me, alone, in the laundry room?" Murphy leaned in towards Frank." You're trying to fix me up, Frank, and I don't like it."

"Is it _my fault_ that all my friends find you attractive? You're a beautiful women, Murphy, who could have her pick of anyone that's out there. _Anyone_."

"You're going have to face facts, Frank. Jerry and I are a couple, we're _together._ I thought you _used that week_ to think this all over, what we're _sitting around_ coming up with _little plots_ to break us up."

"I'm only doing this for your best interest, Murphy!" Frank shot back his true colors.

"Frank!"

"I'm sorry, Murphy, but you said you were _lonely._ I thought if you meet someone else you'd see that Jerry is only taking advantage of your _vulnerable state_."

"Frank! I am not being taken advantage off! This is ridiculous. I mean that guy Harry wasn't even my type."

"Oh, he was so your type, Murphy. Tall, good-looking. He's got Murphy Brown written all over _his face_."

"I don't have a type, Frank."

"Yes, you do! Whenever some dark and handsome man crosses your path you go gaga. _Hell, you giggle_."

"I do not!"

"Peter, Jake, Miles brother Josh…"

"Hey, hey, don't bring Miles brother up, ok – so, I was blinded by his good looks, and his deep eyes." Murphy started to drift off. "And his supple lips and..." Murphy came back to reality. "Come on, Frank, it only lasted a week! And you know why, because I got to know _him._ I got _past_ his rugged good looks. But that was a one shot deal, Frank. When it all comes down to it I always fall for men that arouse my intellect."

"And that's why you married Jake after knowing him less than six hours, because he _aroused_ you intellect!"

"Ok, OK, Frank! So you're right! So, I tend to, at first, go for the superficial outside, but it's their _mind _that I eventually fall in love with, Frank. Those are the _ones that last_."

"That's why I don't get this thing you have with Jerry he looks nothing like the men you _usually date_."

"So you decided you would blindside me with skin, Frank! It that it, Frank? I may be shallow, Frank, but not that shallow."

"Face it, Murph_. You're a sucker_ for a pretty face.

"Ok." Murphy thought to herself. "So. Jerry doesn't look, on the _outside_, like the usual men I date. It doesn't mean I don't find him attractive. But maybe that's why it's different. I mean sure on the inside he has some qualities of the men I date. He challenges me, has _very strong opinions_..."

"He's Jewish."

Murphy shot Frank a look."Frank!"

"With your track record I'm surprised you didn't go after Miles."

"_Frank!"_ Murphy got Frank to back down. "What I'm trying to say is that _maybe _the one that comes and changes your life. Is the different one. The one that challenges you in a different way. The same, but different…" Murphy was surprised by her own comments because it was the first time she was thinking them. "For fifty-five years I've been dating the same type of men and look where's it got me."

"God, Murph, you sound like a hallmark card. _What has he done to you_?"

"This is a no win argument, _Frank_! You're gonna have to promise me you're going to stop fixing me up with people behind my back." Frank looked flustered. "Frank. This is not hard! I will _not _keep asking people to ask Murphy out, or _I will_. It's a life or death decision here, FRANK!"

"You mean _not_ a life and death decision."

"No, I mean _life_ or _death, Frank_. _Life or Death." _Murphy gave him an evil look.

"I promise, ok!"

Murphy smiled and looked around for Phil. She turned her eyes towards the door and caught site of Carl in the doorway. Carl was _FYI's_ ex-cameramen who just happen to be in love with Murphy. He was dressed in a powder blue suit and held a bouquet of sterling steam roses, Murphy's favorite roses.

"Frankkkk?" She lowered her head and looked at Frank like she knew he was guilty of what stood at the door."

"Who else have you told?"

"What?" Frank looked over at the door. "Oh, no." Frank looked back at Murphy with a guilty look on his face.

"You sent Carl, Frank?! Carl!? Where you also planning on hitting me over the head with a large _heavy_ object!"

"I didn't."

"Frank!"

"Ohhh. They must have hired him for my new show..."

"And..."

"And I may or may not have told a few people on the staff and crew that you were in an abusive relationship and in need of someone to take you away from it all." Frank tried to disappear into his hand.

"But Carl?"

"Well, I may or may not have put a large sign up." Murphy was fuming. "A large sign with an itinerary of all the times and places we were hanging out."

"Frank, you're _dead._ A _dead_ man. Are you happy now? Your children will be _fatherless!_ " Murphy's head shook.

"Murphy!" Carl's loud voice bellowed through the bar.

"Hello, Carl." Murphy voice was unenthusiastic.

"These are for you. I believe they are your favorite." Carl handed Murphy his bouquet.

"Thank you, Carl." Murphy tried to be nice, as she always did with Carl. She placed the flowers on the table.

"Murphy, Frank told me of your _plight_."

"My plight?" She looked at Carl not knowing what to do.

"I know how hard it is to leave a man such as Jerry Gold. They **beat** you into submission. Well, I'm here to take you away from all that. Sure, at first, it will just be an act._ An act of protection_. But soon you'll learn to _love_ me. I know you will." Carl leaned down on one knee." Murphy, be mine? Let me take you away from _the madness_?"

"Carl." Murphy rolled her eyes. "Get up!"

"Murphy, I know we can have something special." Carl began to nuzzle Murphy's arm.

"Carl, stop it!" Murphy pushed him off.

Carl stood, but still looked determined. "I was always afraid to use this. Because I am a gentlemen and I wanted you to love me for _me,_ and not my animal _magnetism_. But now, I _must use it_, because some how he has obviously brain-washed you beyond normal means. You'll thank me later for this, Murphy." Murphy looked scared and perplexed and was caught off guard as Carl planted a huge kiss on Murphy's lips.

Murphy pushed Carl off her and screamed at him. "Get off me, Carl!" People in the bar started to look.

"It must be stronger than I thought. I'll have to use plan B."

"Plan B!?" Murphy squealed.

Carl leaned in and looked like he was trying to kiss Murphy's neck. Murphy screamed and pushed Carl off her, as a man's voice was heard near the door.

"Hey! Hey!" It was Jerry's voice.

Murphy pushed Carl off her completely. "You licked me?" Murphy looked at Frank in shock and anger. "Frank, he l_icked_ me!"

"What's going on here?" Jerry busted his way in between Murphy and Carl."

Murphy grabbed some napkins and tried to get Carl's salvia off her neck with a disgusted look on her face. Murphy turned her head and noticed Jerry. "Jerry, what are you doing here?"

"Change of plans. Who's the _beached whale_?"

"I'm Carl." Carl dug his thumb into his chest.

"Well, isn't that great, he can say his own name. Now, why were you sucking on the neck of my girlfriend?" Jerry began to get in Carl's face.

"It's ok, Jerry." Murphy said in an aggravated tone, as she laid her hand on Jerry's arm.

"See, the lady's with me, so why don't you _skedaddle_." He waved his hand away. "Tell Flipper and Free Willy I say hello."

Carl looked like he was going to overheat and then glared at Jerry. "Don't worry, Murphy. I'll think of something. _I'll be back!"_ Carl lifted his head like a super hero and walked away.

Jerry watched him leave not knowing what to make of it and then threw his copy of the _New York Times_ on the table. Jerry noticed a sour look on Frank's face, as Frank glared at him. Jerry moved in for the kill. "And well hello to you, Fontana, long time no see!" Frank made a face and grunted Jerry's name. "Congratulations, I heard you got married. I guess you finally saved up enough money for that mail-order bride you've always wanted." Jerry laughed; Frank didn't.

"Jerry, I thought you weren't coming back 'till Saturday?" Murphy tried to stop the paralyzing banter.

"Yeah, nice surprise, huh?" Jerry leaned in and kissed her. They both smiled gleefully. It made Frank sick and he moved his head away from view. "Move over, Fontana." Jerry put out his cigarette in the ashtray and motioned with his hands. Something he always did when he was so close to Murphy; putting out the cigarette that is.

"Actually, I was just leaving." Frank began to get up.

"No, Frank, don't go!" Murphy motioned for him to stay with her hand. Frank sat down with a disgruntled look on his face. "Jerry, would you mind leaving Frank and I alone? I'd really appreciate it."

Jerry looked at Frank and then at Murphy. "Sure." He smiled awkwardly and picked up his paper. "Is it ok if I stop by tonight?" Jerry leaned in.

"I'd be insulted if you didn't." She gave Jerry a short kiss; Jerry looked elated.

There's something I want to discuss with you. "

"Oh?"

"Nothing bad." Jerry tried to hide a smile that began to emerge. "I may have some good news." Murphy smiled and stood up. Jerry smiled and raised his eyebrows at her

"I'll see you tonight." Murphy kissed Jerry and turned to Frank. "_Frank,_ I'm going to wash my neck! Try not to fix me up with anyone before I get back!"

Jerry watched Murphy leave and then glared at Frank. "What's this Fontana?! You're trying to get _dates_ for my girlfriend."

"It's none of your business, Jerry!" Frank was fuming from the emotions he held in.

"I think when you trying to **_get some_** for my girlfriend, it is my business."

"She's not your _girlfriend, Jerry_!"

"I beg to differ, Fontona, and I have the _Polaroid's_ to prove it." Jerry smirked.

"See, that's it. That's what's going to do you in, Jerry… She'll get sick of your _vulgarity_, your rudeness and self-absorption _real quick._" He shook his head with confidence. "Just like she _always_ does."

"Why? She hasn't with you?" Jerry took out a cigarette and looked for his lighter. "Or with herself for that matter."

"You'll see... She'll see the light and you'll be out on the street just like _all_ the other times."

"You know what, Fontona." Jerry was about to insult Frank, but he stopped and composed himself before speaking again. "I'm going to _lay off _you because I'm in a good mood. But if you ever. I _mean ever_ try to fix Murphy up with another man... And I say this with the _knowledge_ that you've been best friends with Murphy for the last twenty years and so you know the _brunt _of a _true belligerent_... But_ you haven't_ seen _rudeness,_ _vulgarity, and self-absorption_ 'till you've seen _the_ _wrath of me_! Because even though you don't believe it…" Jerry's voice became sweet for a moment, taking Frank by surprise." I love that woman. And I will for the rest of my life." Jerry voice quickly changed to his aggressive self again. Jerry lit his cigarette. "Get that, Fontana!" Frank was in shock. "And I would never do anything, _intentionally_, to hurt her." Jerry put his newspaper under his arm. "And I know we both know _all_ about that." He took a puff, blew it in Frank's face and left.

* * *

**LATER THAT NIGHT**

Murphy opened her door into the foyer. She shut the door just in time to hear a voice coming from her den that she was not happy to hear.

"I'll wait out here." It was Ira Walters, Jerry's long time executive producer. He was a balding man about the same age as Murphy and he held a lit cigar.

"Murphy." He looked at her as pleased as Murphy was so see him, only he had a bit of an evil grin.

"Ira." Murphy's voice grated on her larynx. "What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Murphy. Hope you didn't manage to get _pregnant_ on your way over."

"What did you say? I'm sorry I was distracted by the _blinding shine_ off your head. When are your leaving!?"

"Soon, I have business with Jerry. But isn't this banter _fun_." Ira took a puff on his cigar.

This made Murphy very unhappy. "Do you mind? This is my house and I don't allow things _in my home_ that make it smell like an _Asian bordello_. _Now you,_ I can make an exception for because your Jerry's guest. But I have to draw the line somewhere." Murphy smirked.

Ira looked at Murphy for a moment before speaking. "NO." Ira hit the edge of his cigar, sending ash all over the floor.

"Is there a reason you don't like me?"

"Yeah, I'm not sleeping with you so I don't have to." Murphy made a face at Ira. "The same reason you hate me. We both stand for everything each other detests. Although, I like to think it's your _cheery disposition_."

"And you have no common curtsy to behave for _Jerry's sake_."

"The fact that you're _doing_ Jerry makes no difference to me one way or another. Just because he's getting the goods from you doesn't mean I have to _play nice_. Because frankly, people like you make me sick. What you're doing to _Jerry _and the world."

"What have I done to Jerry?!"

"Hey, what's going on out here?" Jerry came out from the den with a folder in his hand, interrupting Murphy in pre-insult. "Ira, what are you doing?"

"You have those papers!?" Ira put his hand out.

"Yeah, here." Jerry handed some papers to Ira. "What's going on here?" Jerry questioned Murphy. Murphy picked up her mail, gave Ira a face, and walked into the living room.

"You haven't told her yet, have you!?" Ira was testy.

"I haven't decided yet..."

"Jerry, you can't turn this down."

"I'll tell her in my own _time_."

"You have an answer for me by Monday or else I walk."

"Ira…" Jerry whispered in his little boy confessing voice to get Ira to be quiet.

Ira got quiet with a brooding look on his face. He walked towards the door and opened it. "I'll see you, Jerry." His voice was soft, but it soon became loud so the entire house could hear. "I want your decision on that job by Monday!" Ira left and slammed the door.

Jerry stared at the door with his stifled anger. He put his hands in his pockets and walked into the living room.

"What was that about?" Murphy questioned.

"Nothing." Jerry walked up to Murphy and kissed her passionately. It lasted long and produced a lot of heat.

"Whoa, hello to you too."

"I missed you." Jerry leaned his forehead against Murphy's.

"I see." She kissed Jerry back. "So… what was so important you wanted to tell me?"

"I miss spoke. Never mind."

"New York didn't go well?"

"No. Not really." He seemed distracted.

"What was Ira talking about, Jerry?" Murphy began to get suspicious.

"Some job he wants me to take."

"You don't like this job?"

"It's alright." Jerry broke away from Murphy and plopped down on the couch.

"Jerry, how many offers did you and Ira feel out in New York?"

"Oh, I don't know a few dozen."

"Jerry. Don't lie to me."

"Why would I lie?" He was lying.

"Jerry, I heard it from Phil."

"What's with that guy - it's like the Internet runs_ straight_ through that bar. How does he know?"

"He's Phil." Murphy walked closer to Jerry. "Jerry, why are your lying about this? Do you have a woman there? Because if you do - god help me..."

"No, no, no! Of course not!" Jerry jumped up from the couch.

"Then what is it?"

"The jobs in New York, Murphy."

"Yes, what about it?"

"No, _Murphy_, the job Viacom is offering is based in New York."

"It can't be anywhere else?"

"That's what I've been doing for the last week and half trying to get them to change their minds, but the job comes with New York."

"Oh." Murphy looked down and her voice became a monotone. "What's the job?" She looked up at Jerry.

"It's not that good. I don't even think I want it." Jerry walked over to the mantel leaving his back to Murphy.

"_Jerry_, you wouldn't have spent a week and half in New York City - if you didn't want this job! What is it?"

Jerry turned to face Murphy. "It's radio. I don't want that. I take this job, next thing you know I'm hosting some morning zoo show, and then I might as well _kill myself_."

"What type of show would it be, Jerry?"

"Politics. Plus, anything else I feel like adding. I'd get two hours of time during drive time, Monday through Friday. Call in, guests. I can say, and do whatever I want." Jerry couldn't help, but get excited about what he was saying. "And they're gonna film it for CSPAN! CSPAN! So, that's double the exposure...and then…" Jerry stopped and realized what he was doing. The smile disappeared from his face.

"What else?" Murphy knew there was more. Jerry said nothing with a sad look on his face. "What else, Jerry!"

"On Sundays mornings I would host my own _Meet The Press_ meets _Political Incorrect_ type show for FOX."

"That's great, Jerry!"

"I suppose."

"Jerry, it's an amazing offer."

"I don't know..." Jerry looked away and put his hands in his pockets. "That was general idea for my last show in the States -"

"You want the job don't you?"

"NO." Jerry looked Murphy in the eyes and lied straight to her face.

Murphy was surprised how real it looked. "Come on, Gold, you were almost _beaming _when you told me."

"CSPAN? What? Melatonin to the masses. Come on, Brown…" Jerry ran his hand over his mouth and walked behind the couch. He paused for a moment before speaking, "Ok, so it's a really great offer, ok a _really, really_ great offer. And it's the first time I'd get a real change at being taken seriously. I mean no ten-minute spot on FYI, or some entertainment _shtick_ talk show. Not that that wasn't great, but I'm really getting sick and tired of every time I see my name in print, having the words "King of Trash TV", follow right after it. I'm not ashamed of anything I've done, in fact, _I'm proud_... it's just..." Jerry turned around and faced the fireplace. "There's just something to be said for…."

"Respect…"

Jerry turned to face her. "Yeah…"

Murphy lowered her head.

"Well, this is crazy. I can't take this job that means... I'll just take that syndication offer." Jerry flared his arms about.

"Syndication!? Jerry!? A show like yours couldn't last in syndication today! That's why you last show in the states failed."

"But the jobs in D.C."

"We can't think that way."

"How? The city comes with the job."

Murphy through for a moment and then looked like she had a brilliant idea. "I have an idea." Murphy ran over to her desk by the staircase and came back with a deck of multi colored index cards and a pen. "See these index cards." Murphy made her way back to Jerry. "We take all the offers you're been offered." Murphy began to lay the cards on the coffee table like a game of memory. "How many do you have left?"

"Five."

Murphy stopped for a moment in her action. "Only five left?" she said with surprise in her voice. "Okay." She shook it off for Jerry's sake. Murphy handed out five cards on the table. "See you write the offer on one side and the city on the other. This way we read the offer without the city. That's how we decide. And whatever one is left. Is the winner."

"I see."

"It's so simple, yet so right." Murphy handed Jerry the pen.

* * *

**LATER**

Moments later Jerry and Murphy sat on the couch looking down at the square pattern of red and blue cards. They held hands and looked at each other. Jerry proceeded to look down at the cards and read aloud their titles, as either he or Murphy shot them down, until they were left with three cards.

"Syndication." Jerry read the title out loud. He looked at Murphy. "My own show, creative freedom."

"National exposure, no small markets."

"Affiliates that can decide not to pick you up."

"Boycotts."

"Which means less markets."

"Less exposure."

"Less money." Jerry picked up the card and turned in over.

"It's in DC."

"It's a no Jerry." Murphy could tell by the look on Jerry's face. She took the card and tore it up.

Murphy picked up the next card. "Cable. You can say whatever you want."

"Yeah, but who will see it. It's TNN. My audience will be consist of two hillbillies in their underwear married to their cousins who still think _pillow cases_ look good on their _heads_. I don't think so. I'll just be an intro to _He Haw -_ Next!"

Murphy rolled her eyes and her head and ripped up the card.

Jerry and Murphy looked over at the remaining card. They looked at each other. It was the Viacom card. It wasn't until they looked at the table that the two realized they were down to one.

"So, it's syndication." Jerry got up off the couch and walked behind it.

Murphy slumped back into the couch. "You can't turn this job down, Jerry."

"Of course I can. Watch me."

"Jerry, you can't take a job you _don't like_."

"So, I'll keep on _looking_!"

"Jerry, they're not going to offering theses jobs forever. I've tried to pretend, but I'm in this business too, Jer. I hear things." She paused for a moment. "This could be your last change."

"This could be _our_ last change!" Jerry paused. "Our relationship doesn't do well over_ distance_."

"You'll be closer this time."

"That's true, but..."

"Jerry, if it's one thing I've learned about us over the years is that we're both the type of people who are happiest when we're working. And if we're both not working and happy in it, _this_ crumbles."

"So, it's New York."

"So. It's New York." It was a bittersweet moment. An awkward pause proceeded.

Jerry walked around the couch and approached Murphy. All of a sudden he seemed to have an idea. "Why don't you come with me?!" He smiled gleefully and sat down next to Murphy on the other side of the couch.

"With you, Jerry!? My life is _here_."

"What life?"

"What's that's _suppose_d to mean!?"

"No, I'm serious, Murphy." He paused for moment. "You're living in the past, Brown_. FYI_ is over. This is now; this is your life _with me_ in the _present_."

Murphy became excitable. "Jerry, I can't just _pick up my life_ and move to New York City! There was more to my life in Washington then _FYI_. _FYI is not_ the only reason I stay here. I have friends here, I have a _life here_."

"Who, Fontana? He has his own family now."

"There's Jim..."

"He has his wife. Murphy, they've all gone on with your lives! Why can't you?"

"There are other reasons, Jerry. _My life is _here and it's has been here for the last twenty years. My son is here, my job is here. This is where my work is, Jerry. It's like I said _we compromise_ this part of our lives, it compromises _the other_!" Murphy calmed down a few notches to her serious tone. "I think we'd be the first to admit we're both not the _easiest_ people to live with. And what we both don't need is for one of us to be unhappy."

"So, I'm going to New York."

"And I'm staying here."

"Well, I'm glad were both happy," he said sadly and with a hint of sarcasm.

_I guess neither one of us…_  
_Neither one of us wants to be the first to say good-bye_

**_Neither One Of Us ~ Gladys Night & The Pips_**

* * *

**A WEEK LATER**

Murphy's doorbell rang and she took long strides through the foyer and opened the door.

"Jerry, what are you doing here? I though we said we _weren't going _to say good-bye." Jerry appeared on the doorstep with one hand behind his back and a brown paper bag, with a handle, in the other.

"I know we said that, but my flight got delayed an hour and I wanted to see you before I left." Jerry looked at Murphy with the look that made her melt.

"I am glad you came," she confessed.

"These are for you." Jerry thrust what was behind his back in front of him.

"Romaine lettuces?" It was a head of Romaine Lettuces with a small ribbon around it made up to look like a bouquet. It made Murphy laugh, which of course was its intention.

"I stopped off at some market to get you some flowers, and for the life of me I _couldn't remember_ what your favorite flower was. ... So, I figured this was more practical. It doesn't wilt or die and you'll actually have some nourishment in that _graveyard for perishables_ you call a _refrigerator_."

"Well they're...beautiful, Jerry."

"I also got you a gift." Jerry smiled and handed Murphy the bag from his hand.

Murphy looked at Jerry funny and took the package. "A gift, Jerry? You're the one going away. _Shouldn't I_ be the one getting you a gift?" Murphy walked over to the foyer table and moved the flowers out of the center to place the bag on it.

"Well, it's a gift we can both use." Jerry followed behind with his hands in his pockets.

Murphy took a box, with a small white kitchen appliance on it, out of the bag and looked at it in a sort of amazement. "A George Forman Grill?" Murphy placed it on the table.

"Yeah, it cooks in only three minutes. I figured even you could figure out how to cook with it."

"But the George Forman grill?"

"What, I should get you one made by Brain Boitano!? It's a good grill, Murphy!"

"It's sweet, Jerry." Murphy smiled and then looked at Jerry funny. "But how is this a gift for both of us, you don't eat meat?"

"Scratch that...I use to not eat meat."

"I thought you we're _die hard_ to stay a vegetarian, again. How'd it happened this time?"

"Sort of the same way it happened the first time. I was driving on the Autobahn, on my way to Baden and Baden or some Kraut name like that, and I caught the smell of this bar and the best smelling hot dogs I have ever tasted. And that was it. I was gone." Jerry made a "gone' type gesture with his hand

"What changed you back after that?"

"The sausage making factory _next_ to the great smelling bar." Jerry looked at his watch. "I took my show on a tour once." Jerry laughed and then looked at his watch. He had a look of distress on his face. "Well, I better get going. My flight leaves soon. I only had a few minutes." Jerry took Murphy's hand and they walked towards the door. They stopped in front of it and stood there for a moment. It was awkward and sad and Jerry made note of it first "Murphy, don't look so sad. This isn't good-bye."

"Then why does it feel that way?"

"I know." Jerry took a pause." Listen, in two weeks we'll see each other again."

"Yes, and once the show gets started we can meet every weekend."

"Every weekend." Jerry's tone changed from optimist to pessimistic, "Then why am I so scared I'm losing you."

"I wish I had an answer that would calm our fears, Jerry, but I don't have one."

"You know I don't have to take this job. There will be other jobs."

"Jerry, _there_ are _no_ other jobs... You back out of this now, what are you going to do?"

"I'll make my own job. I could write a book, I've always wanted to do that."

"A book, Jerr?! That's not work! That sitting around in your bathrobe _complaining_ you're not working. I know more relationships that have ended because of the statement, "I think I'll write a book."

"Like who?"

"Like Corky's marriage for example!" Murphy deflated. "Oh _god_, I'm comparing myself to Corky! This has to be the beginning of the end."

Jerry was left confused by Murphy's comment, but before he could say anything a car horn sounded. "That's my ride."

"You better go…" Jerry kissed Murphy passionately, as if it were their last kiss. When they parted Jerry let go of Murphy's lips as slowly as he could.

Murphy's head was lowered and they held hands. "I'll see ya." Jerry kissed Murphy's hand. Without looking into her eyes he walked towards the door, holding on to Murphy's hand until doing so would have pulled her with him. He opened the door and closed it behind him.

Murphy turned and looked around the foyer. Thinking to herself how unsure she was of the entire situation, but still knew it had to be done. Then she heard someone at the door and expected Eldin to enter next.

"What if..." Murphy turned around to see Jerry emerging through the doorway again. "I could somehow _get it_ in my contract that once my show's a hit I can move it wherever I want, would you - at least come with me to New York... for the time being, just a temporary thing, at least the summer."

"Can you do that?"

"I could...I think...and my guess is I can make this show a hit by August. _I guarantee_!" Murphy looked at Jerry unable to think of an answer. "What do ya say?"

"Jerry, I don't know... I mean there's Avery and..."

"Think about it...Would you at least think about it."

Murphy thought for another moment and smiled. "Ok, I'll think about."

"That's all I wanted to hear." He smiled. "I have to go!" Jerry hurried to the door and grabbed the doorknob. He opened it and spun around. "This is gonna work, no matter what. I'll call you when I land." He blew her a kiss.

"Sterling silver roses and black orchids," Murphy yelled to Jerry, as he closed the door.

"What?" Jerry held the door in mid-pull.

"For further reference... my favorite flowers. Sterling silver roses and black orchids."

"You had to be a high maintenance girl, didn't you?"

"Would you like me if I weren't?"

"No." Jerry raised his eyebrows, smiled, and left.

Murphy had just enough time to take in another breath, when Jerry sprung through the door again. "Ah, one more thing…"

"_What are you Colombo?!_ _Get out of here, Gold, before you miss your flight!" _she smirked gleefully.

"I forgot, this is for you." Jerry handed Murphy a purple orchid around the corner of the door. He smiled slyly.

Murphy took the orchid in shock. She shook her head in disbelief. "You and the pyramids..."

"….Never cease to amaze you. I know, I know." Jerry continued Murphy's famous line in a sheepish way. "See you in two weeks." Jerry smiled and shut the door behind him.


	2. CHAPTER TWO: Pre Occupation

**Chapter Two**: PRE-OCCUPATION

* * *

**THREE WEEKS LATER**

* * *

_"It's like Quicksand. Quicksand. Pulling me closer. And closer in your arms. Can't resist your loving charms. It's like You're like..." _**Martha and the Vandellas**

* * *

"QUICKSAND! It's digging me deeper, **Deeper!** **_In love with you!_**" Murphy stepped off the elevator onto the old _FYI_ floor, her hair pulled back in a small ponytail, something she hadn't been able to do in years. Murphy had her headphones on and was bopping along to Martha and the Vandellas, while screaming out the lyrics to the song in her grating, horrible, singing voice. Murphy bopped along to the music, as she made her way to her office, complete with the over exaggerated arm gestures. It was more like a dance then a stroll, which included spinning and backwards walking.

Murphy threw her bag on the chair next to the door and her lunch from Phil's on her desk. Murphy was on a roll and had decided to work in his office. So much on a roll that she had missed her usual lunchtime at Phil's by hours.

Murphy finally had an executive producer, which meant her show finally had the green light. The delay forced her to lose one of her stories to _60 minutes_, but it was ok, because she was on the trail of an even better story. Ok, at first she was upset. Maybe not just upset, but livid, but the three hundred pizzas she sent to Ed Bradley's house seem to sooth some of the discomfort. She turned her Walkman off and tossed her earphones and player onto the chair next to her purse.

Murphy's next stop was the boom box next to her window. Murphy finally had a window and her only view was of Marv's desk in the outer office, well his old desk. What was the point of that window – she wondered. Murphy hit the radio and searched until she found her FM soul channel and left it there. She found the station in the middle of _Back in his Arms_ again by the Supremes. Murphy pulled her glasses out of her pocket and started reading some research that was laid out over the entirety of her desk. Half way through she took a number two pencil and shoved it in her mouth. Three songs later, and after much movement from Murphy, the announcer came on the radio and announced the call letters.

"And here's a strange dedication." The announcer cleared his throat. "It's from _Gold_ to _Brown_." Murphy's head shot up. "It's says quote, "What the hell are you doing? I'm on in ten minutes. You'd better listen after this song or else? Well, here's that song out from _Gold to Brown_."

_I hear a Symphony_ by the Supremes came blaring out from the radio. Murphy walked closer to the radio smiling, as she listened. After a moment, Murphy sat on the edge of her desk and picked up her desk phone.

_"You've given me a true love and every day I thank you love. For a feeling that's so new. So inviting, so exciting. Whenever you're near I hear a symphony. A tender melody. Pulling me closer. Closer to your arms. Then suddenly, I hear a symphony. Ooh, your lips are touching mine. A feeling so divine 'Till I leave the past behind. I'm lost in a world. Made for you and me..." _

**I hear a Symphony ~ Supremes**

"Hey, Donna. Can I speak with him before he goes live? Thanks." While Murphy waited she picked up a number two pencil and began to flick it back and forth between her fingers. "Hi," Murphy got a girlish tone to her voice, as Jerry came to the phone. "Yes, I heard it! How did you know I'd be listening...? Ok, so, my work habits are predictable...so, what's going on? When should I expect you tonight?" Murphy got a wicked look on her face. "I thought... What?" Murphy looked disappointed. "No, I can't come up. I have too much work to do...no, it's fine, it's just... _it's been three weeks_ since we last saw each other and." Murphy heard a loud thud outside her office and turned her head towards the sound, but continued her conversation. "Yeah, I'm here." The sounds grew louder. It sounded like some sort of construction. "Listen, Jerry…" She shot her eyes towards the sound. "I'm going to have to call you back after the show. ... NO, I will _not_ call you during commercial breaks and talk dirty to you!" Murphy's sourpuss turned into a delighted look. "OK, _that I'll do_, but only if you're _good_, and I get the same in return." Murphy got an evil, gleeful smirk on her face, as she listened to Jerry's next comment."... GOOD BYE, JERRY!" Murphy hung up the phone and walked her duck like walk into the bullpen.

"What's going on out here?" Murphy yelled, as two men carried away her secretary's desk. "Hey, that's my secretary's desk!"

"Yeah, like you need it," one of the workmen snarled at her with a laugh.

"Hey!" Murphy followed the men and wagged her finger, as they carried away the desk. Murphy stopped in the center of the bullpen, as she watched workmen take away furniture, set up a scaffold, and lay down tarp.

"What the hell is going on here!?" Murphy threw out her hand. She tried to get the attention of one of the men, but it was like she was invisible. Finally, she managed to get the attention of one of the workmen. "What's going on here?"

"The floors being remodeled."

"There must be some mistake. _I work_ on this floor. There has to be some mistake."

"No mistake, that's the orders."

"Well, I'm saying you've made a mistake. So, pack up your stuff AND GET OUT OF HERE!"

"Listen lady, I _got _orders from the higher-ups. You want to complain. Complain to them!" The man walked away.

"Some people have no common courtesy!" Murphy walked over to one of the desks that still remained and dialed the phone with a great deal of force. "It's unbelievable!" The person on the other end picked up. "HI! I need to talk to _Stan_...Well, it's important, when will he be back?" The elevator sounded and Murphy turned her head in response. Todd Hanes, head of the news division, stood in the sliver box looking like he had no idea why the elevator had stopped in the first place. He was a short man in a short black suit, with grey hair and perturbed look on his face.

"Todd, _VP of news_, just the man I wanted to see!" Murphy said gleefully in her common courtesy, I want something, voice.

"Damn elevator," Todd snarled, as he caught site of Murphy. He tried to find a button to close the door again, but nothing happened. And before it could even have the chance to close, Murphy had already run over to the elevator and blocked all motion with her hand. "Hi, Murphy." He was not happy.

"What's going on here?"

"We're remodeling the floor. Isn't it great?" He tried to pep things up.

"No, it is not great, Todd, it's actually distracting when you're trying to work and _Beirut_ is happening _right outside_ _your door_!" The elevator door began to close and Murphy pushed the door open again. "Why does the floor need to be remodeled anyway, its _fine_ the way it is?"

"We're making way for the local news. Didn't you get the memo?"

"Todd, haven't you _learned _by now _I _don't read memos. They're _beyond me_. Like traffic tickets and food that doesn't take less than ten minutes to make! And how can the local news move up here? _I'm here_! Where am I supposed to go? _I like my office, Todd! _I've finally gotten used to it! I really hate this moving thing! If I have to keep moving this much ever four years I'm going to get whiplash! Now I know what the _Bush's_ must feel like!"

"_Don't worry,_ Murphy, you don't have to move again."

"Thank god, I thought... Ohh. Wait a minute, WAIT A minute! If I'm _not_ moving and _they're_ moving up here? That means _we'll be sharing_ the floor, which can't be what you're saying, could it!? Because I was an only child Todd, I don't share! I've tried, it doesn't work."

"Think of it as a way to grow."

"I don't grow Todd, I _gestate_ - it's part of the mystique _that is me_!"

"Murphy, I really have to go, can we discuss this later. Like at my _funeral_." Todd began to hit the elevator button, but Murphy stopped the closure of the door, this time with her body.

_"Todd, I want to do it my way and I want to do it now_!" Her head shook.

"_You_ must be a _joy_ _in_ _bed_!" Todd swaggered off the elevator and Murphy followed, until they met in between the two elevators.

"Todd, you can't do this! _Local news_ and _National news_ _shouldn't _mix. It's like oil and water. They should _stay_ on their side of the fence and us on ours. It's called the _national_ order of things. That's just the way it is. Like why Barry Manilow shouldn't be played on the same station as Sam Cooke! It's just not done!"

"Well, _you're gonna_ _get_ used to it! The news division in Washington is getting smaller and smaller! FYI was the last big thing we had here. Everything's in New York now."

"What about Kay's show and..."

"I'm moving Kay's show to New York."

"New York? Why?"

"Where have you been, Murphy? _New York is the new hub for_ _broadcast Journalism_. Being in New York is a good jumping off point for a new show. Washington is dead!"

"What is this, a news division or a _Las Vegas lounge act!?_" Murphy rolled back her head. "Yeah right, New York is the _new hub of journalism_. ...They think adding a _window_ _on the world_ to all their shows is some sort a _stroke of genius_. Yeah! Real stroke of genius! I love to get my news while simultaneously watching Betty the bag lady _pee in the street_. And what's with people who hold up those signs that's says, _Hi Mom_? _Like_ he _couldn't_ just _pick up the phone_ and do the same thing! I bet his mom lives with him and he can say "hi" to her anytime he wants to. I'm telling _you_ the American people are _morons_!"

"And you wonder why the general public feels you _lack warmth_!"

"Todd, I want my floor back, and I want it _now_!"

"Well, you're _not going to get it, Murphy_! This comes from the higher-ups! They're tightening their belts over here. We can't afford to keep an entire floor just for you!"

"Once the show gets under way I'll have a staff, there be more people?"

"It's not enough, Murphy! This floor was fine for a show with four anchors and their staff, but not one. Even one as _antagonizing _as_ you_!"

"What about Frank's show? We could share the floor together?"

"Frank's projects have been put on hold!"

"Look out!" one of the workmen yelled. Todd pushed Murphy aside, as a large piece of the ceiling careened to the floor, missing Murphy by fragments of an inch.

"Are you ok?" Todd questioned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Murphy mussed, looking up at the empty hole in the ceiling. "What the hell are you people doing?" She looked over at Todd. "Todd, they're _destroying _the place! I think you should fire the lot of 'um! Get a new contractor, a really good one, one that has _a_ very LONG waiting list!"

"_Murphy,_ you're going to have to face it that the old Washington is out. What was going on at the height of _FYI_'s fame is gone."

"Don't say that, Todd._ FYI_ may be gone. But I'm still here, and _through_ me the _spirit_ of FYI will live on. You know why? Because it is an invincible spirit, TODD! A spirit that cannot be shaken. No matter _what_!"

"Hey, be careful!" A man's voice from beyond the hall was heard followed by a huge crash. The floor shook, causing the letters "F" and "Y", from the huge _FYI _hanging next to the elevator, to crash to the floor.

"Ohhhhh, Jeez." Murphy collapsed the upper part of her body in disbelief, walking away from the elevator.

"Come on, Murphy, it won't be that bad!" Todd walked over to the large "F" and picked it up, the one letter still in one piece. "You can still be the great journalist you've always been. Just in a smaller space." He walked closer to Murphy who was still in shock by the passing of events.

"And where am I supposed to go in the _meantime, _Todd? It's not exactly _safe_ for me to stay here."

"Can't you work at home? Or we could give you space on the 17th floor, your old office space."

"Isn't that where you moved the secretarial pool?"

"Yeah, why?"

"No, thank you! I think I'd rather take my changes here!"

"Fine, have it your way. Listen, Murphy, I have to go catch a flight." Todd walked towards the left elevator and Murphy followed

"We'll just see about this, Todd! _Todd_? What kind of a name is that? Take the "T" away and it's just plan _odd_." Murphy was content with her deduction. "And you know why, Todd, because you're an _odd_ little man! And you always will be. Now when's Stan coming back so I can _bring_ this up with _him_? You know things were so much better when Mitchell Baldwin was running this place. No. No. _Gene Kinsella_. Now that was a man who knew what he was doing!"

"That's it! Go over my head to the President, _every time_ something doesn't go _your_ way. Well, you're out of luck, Murphy, because this was all his idea. You can't _wavier him_. It was the last thing he signed off on before he left for New York. So, there!"

"So, I'll just talk this up with him when he gets back." Murphy smiled slyly. "_When_ will that be?"

"Don't you get it, Murphy, he's _not coming_ back."

"Wait a second, you're not telling me he's moved there too?"

"He lives there Murphy, he was just staying here for a couple a years while he helped start an entertainment division down here."

"He was?"

"Didn't you think it was strange that the head of the network lived in WASHINGTON D.C. when our headquarters are in New York and LA?"

"I always thought he was _eccentric_."

"Murphy. I really have to go." Todd pushed the elevator button.

"I get it. This is just some conspiracy to get us to bow out gracefully while you bring in younger and "_better_" versions of us. It's because we're getting older, isn't it _Todd_? You think we've lost out luster. Well! Let me tell you something _buster,_ the best things get better with age, a fine wine, a great pair of pants, " Murphy got a wicked look on her face. The elevator door opened. "My old English lit professor."

"Good-bye, Murphy!"

Murphy still pressured Todd, "And how could you do this to Frank? I mean that's _really low_." Murphy put her hand between the elevator doors. "He has put _a lot_ of hard work into this network and you dump him out on to the street, what kind of thank you is that!"

"It was Frank's idea to put the show on hold in the first place!" Todd handed Murphy the "F" in his hand. "Here take your "F" I have to go."

"I'll show you were to stick your "F"… and wait a minute?" Murphy had a surprised look on her face. "Frank decided to put his show on hold? There has to be a mistake that show means too much to Frank." Murphy became concerned.

"Beats me. He called me today and asked if we could delay the start date a couple of months."

"_A_ couple _of_ months?"

"Here, Murphy." Todd handed Murphy the "F" again. "And I think you should pack up your stuff and get out of here as soon as possible. It's really not safe for you to stay. Everything's failing apart around here." Todd looked around.

Murphy took the "F", letting go of the elevator and causing it to close. Todd was gone. Murphy was left confused and perplexed while she cradled the "F" in her palm. Todd was right everything was falling apart.

* * *

_What happened to… the world we knew. When we were dreaming, scheming. And while the time away Yester me yester you yesterday. Where did it go that yester glow? When we could feel the wheel of life turn our way. Yester me, yester you, yesterday. I had a dream, so did you, life was warm and love was true. Two kids who followed all the rules. Yester fools and now. Now it seems… those yester dreams. Were just a cruel and foolish game we had to play Yester me, yester you, yesterday. When I recall what we had… I feel lost… I feel sad. With nothing but the memory of… yester love and now. Now it seems those yester dreams. Were just a cruel and foolish game we had to play. Yester me yester you. yesterday..._

**Yester me, Yester you, Yesterday ~ Stevie Wonder**

* * *

Later that night, Murphy stood in her dimly lit office. A quarter of which was moved into piles and boxes. Murphy threw a couple of things in a box and then collapsed into her chair. She sat in silence, thinking with her arm resting on her other arm, as if they were tied together.

"Murphy! Murph?" Murphy heard Frank's voice coming from the bullpen.

Murphy shot her head towards the door, as Frank ran into the room. "Frank? You're late!"

Frank stopped at the foot of Murphy's desk. "I know, I'm sorry... "A loud bang was heard outside. "What's going on out there?" Frank looked out the door and then back at Murphy. He dropped an overnight bag from his shoulder onto the floor.

"They're making room for that _water slide_ you've always wanted, Frank! _Happy_ _Birthday_!" Murphy got up from her chair and walked over to the large window, to the right of her desk, and began to organize some papers and magazines. "Where have you been, Frank? I've been waiting for you for four hours. That's four hours of my life gone! Forever!" Murphy carried a bushel of magazines over to her desk and slammed them down. She began sorting the magazines, throwing the ones she wanted into the box on her desk and the discards in the trash. "You know what I could have done in that time Frank! A lot!"

"I'm sorry, Murphy, I was on my way over when I got a phone call..."

"God, how long have these magazines been here?" Murphy looked at the cover of one the magazines. "I think this one says August '84!" Murphy squinted at the cover and brought it closer to her face. "I wasn't even in _this_ office in nineteen-eighty- four!" Murphy threw the magazine in the trash.

"Murph! What's going on here?" Frank looked around the room. "Are you moving?"

"No, Frank I'm donating all my things to the _homeless_ and joining a nunnery! _Of course I'm moving_!" Murphy walked behind her desk and began to pull off the pictures of girl groups she had tapped to the shelves under her television.

"But why?"

Murphy spun around and accosted Frank again. "What happened, Frank?! You get scared? You didn't think you could _cut_ it on your own?"

"What...are you talking about?" He gestured with his hands.

"_Your show Frank_! And don't try to deny it I heard it from Todd." Frank ran his hand over his head and turned around. "And with only me left _standing_ the network decided to compact the entire _Washington news division_. Which from what I hear after your departure fits on the small side of a thin sized _pin,_ Frank!"

"Murph, I was going to tell you about it tonight." Frank began to stammer. Murphy turned around to face him. "Lesley and I... she...Lesley's out in the Hamptons, and so I'm putting off the show until the babies are born."

"Till _the babies are born,_ Frank? Then it will be until they're out of diapers, or not until they go out on their first date, _next thing you know_ they're in college, and your taking about how it _used to_ _be_ when you were a journalist!"

"Murphy, that's not how it's going to be! I didn't want to tell you this, because Lesley doesn't want anyone fawning over her, so she told me not to say anything, but when I say Lesley's in the Hamptons, I mean she's laid up in bed in the Hamptons, she not doing well."

"Frank?" Murphy became worried and Frank tried to calm her.

"The babies are fine, but the doctor said that moving her would be a very bad idea." Frank voice had worry and concern in it. " Something could happen at any moment_, in _fact, that's why I was late - I got a call that they had to rush her to the hospital, I've been on the phone all day, trying to get a plane out with the fog. "

"Oh, Frank, I'm sorry! What's the prognosis?

"Nothing's confirmed. They need to do more tests to be sure." Frank tried to hide his worry.

"Of course." Murphy rubbed her left hand with her right fingers. "I'm sure everything will be fine, Frank. Remember, I was pregnant once."

"How could I forget…" Frank muttered and Murphy gave him a fast look.

"And these things always end up to be nothing." Frank still looked worried. "Really. And then after that you can get back to work, and we can take our floor back!"

"It's not as simple as that, Murphy. I'm going to stay with Lesley at the summer home for the rest of the pregnancy."

"You're going to be away for six months, Frank?"

"Murphy... When Lesley told me she was pregnant. I made her a promise. She didn't want me to tell anyone, but she got pregnant before we were engaged."

"No, _kidding, _Frank!"

"Why does everyone say that?!" Frank plopped down in the chair in front of Murphy's desk. "She was scared, I was scared. And she made me promise that I would always be there for her when she needed me. That was my end of the bargain. And she needs me now."

Murphy lowered her head in her embarrassment and became serious. "I shouldn't be surprised. Your always there for me when I need you, I guess it's _kind of_ selfish of me if I don't share such a wonderful commodity." Murphy walked behind her desk and sat on the edge next to Frank. "Why don't we go to Phil's and have that dinner? One last hurrah before you leave." She smiled.

"I can't. The only way I can get out of DC in a hurry is if I take the train. And the last train out of Washington leaves in an hour." Frank got up.

"I thought the fog lifted?"

"It did, only now everyone and their mother is at the airport waiting for stand-by. I'd be there for hours. So. I have to go now." Frank started to go for the door. He stopped and gave Murphy a large hug. Frank could tell how sad Murphy was. "Don't worry, Murph. We'll see each other soon. You can come up and visit and pretty soon the next thing you'll know you'll have two little god-children to play with."

Murphy looked into Frank's eyes and smiled. "Frank, have I told you how happy I am for you?"

"No, you haven't. But I knew." The two of them smiled at each other with big grins and then wrapped their arms around each other again.

"Oh, I miss my pal so much."

After a moment, Frank let go and ran for the door. "I'll call you. OK." Frank picked up his overnight bag and walked over to the door and stopped, giving Murphy one more look.

"Go, Frank you'll miss your train."

Frank smiled and ran out the door. Murphy stood alone, in almost darkness, looking deep in thought. The whole experience felt very familiar lately.

* * *

_"So far away. Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore?"-_**So Far Away-Carol King**

* * *

**GEORGETOWN**

Murphy made her way into her brownstone Townhouse.

"Eldin, Avery, I'm home!" Murphy noticed that the green chair was back, and it looked newly upholstered. She threw her bag on it. "You'll never believe the day I've had." Murphy took off her scarf and tossed it on the chair next to her purse. "I think Houdini had a better day when he was punched in the stomach and _died_! At least he was _put out_ of his misery." Murphy walked past the foyer table to check for the mail and noticed a copy of the _New York Times_ on it.

"_The New York Times_?" She began to smile. "Jerry…" Murphy whispered out loud to herself. Murphy walked briskly into the living room yelling his name, but there was no Jerry and no response.

"Hey, hey, keep it down out here. Avery and I are making figurines in red Play-Doh for our rendition of aspects of _Plato's Republic_. They're in a very fragile state. You could crack the varnish." Eldin smiled. "I thought the material was appreciate and a yet ironic at the same time."

"Eldin, is Jerry here?"

"No, he is not here, _thank god_."

"Oh," Murphy looked disappointed. Eldin watched Murphy walk over to the couch and plop her entire body onto it and lift one of the pillows to her head.

Eldin smiled gleefully and walked closer to the right arm of the couch. "You miss him, don't you?"

Murphy looked up at Eldin. "No, Eldin, I _do not_ _miss_ Jerry. I saw a copy of the _New York Times_ on the table and I just assumed _he was here_."

"What? You think you people are the only ones who read the newspaper around here?"

"It was a _New York_ paper!" She lifted her head up at him.

"The Arts and Leisure section happens to have an article on a very good friend of mine who draws charcoal stretches in Central Park."

"Sorry, Eldin." Murphy collapsed her head back onto the pillow in a dishevel fashion.

"That's alright. I tend to bounce back very easily." Eldin looked into the kitchen and then back at Murphy again. "You know, it's ok to admit that you miss him?"

Murphy's body shot up to the center of the couch. "I don't _miss him,_ Eldin. Missing someone implies that you need someone. I don't need Jerry. I am fine all by myself."

"Ok…" Eldin walked towards the kitchen. Murphy took a deep breath from exhaustion. Eldin laughed to himself. "You miss him!" He shook his head.

"NO, I DON"T!" Murphy screamed before plopping herself back into her previous position. Murphy laid in silence for a moment pondering something. Then she sat up and looked as if she was thinking even more. Murphy looked towards the door. "Eldin, don't save dinner for me. I'll be back." Murphy grabbed her bag and was out of the townhouse like a flash.

* * *

**LATER THAT NIGHT**

Murphy dashed into Phil's like she was a woman on a mission, and she was. She looked around at the empty bar disappointed not to find what she was looking for. And that was Jim.

"Hey there, Murphy." Phil stood behind the bar drying off glasses with a small towel.

"Hi, Phil," she said with a puzzled look on her face. Murphy let go of the door causing it to slam shut. "Where is everyone?"

"It's two o'clock, Murphy, we're closing up." Phil placed the dry glass in his right hand on the top of the bar and replaced it with a wet one in front of him.

"Is it?" Murphy looked at her watch distressed.

Phil noticed this. "Murphy, are you alright?"

Murphy looked around and ran her fingers through her hair. "I'm looking for Jim? Doris told me he was here?"

"He was. He left about a half hour ago." Phil looked Murphy dead in the eye. "You don't look so good, Kid. What's wrong?"

"I just need to talk to Jim." She averted Phil's eyes.

"I see." Phil nodded his head as if he understood something about Murphy she wouldn't admit. And it was true. Phil made his way behind the bar. "Well, Jim left about a half-hour ago. I think he said he was going home." Phil slid an ashtray off the table closest to the edge of the bar. He then walked over to the side of the bar and dumped it into another ashtray.

"I was just there!" Murphy walked over to him. "I waited in my car for _four hours_ outside his house and he never showed up. _Finally,_ Doris came home and told me he was here. And _what_ was Jim doing here 'till one-thirty in the morning? That's not like him?"

"Yeah." Phil laughed. "Celebrating!" He must have gone in the back and called you about twenty times." Phil walked over to the middle table and did the same thing he had done before.

Murphy followed him whining the entire time. "Celebrating what, Phil?"

"Jim got that editor's job."

"Really! That's great!" Murphy stood still in awe, while Phil took an ashtray off a third table and returned to the bar again.

"Yeah, He was here _carousing_ and _drinking_ with some of the old crew." Phil smiled and looked over at Murphy. "Even Doris was here with him' till about twelve when she left. You should have seen how _happy_ he was. The two of them had this entire bar breaking into song. It sure was a site. You haven't seen happy hour 'till you've seen a bar full of drunks singing _Surrey With The Fringe On Top_. I even caught Clarence Thomas doin' a jig." Phil shook his head and shot his eyes back to the bar "I can't remember that last time one of you guys closed this place down." Phil began to take off his apron. "Sure gonna miss that guy."

"Why, where's he going?"

Phil walked over to the middle table and placed the empty ashtray back where it had been. "New Hampshire! That's where the newspaper is."

"What! _What?_!" Murphy turned away from Phil in shock. "What is going on here? Is e_verybody_ leaving? I haven't seen so many people jump ship since the _Titanic_! Although, I'm starting to feel more like the _Lusitania. _At least The Titanic had a brief moment of _seeing the iceberg_ coming before it _hit them_ _head on_!"

"Maybe they just want a change of pace, Murphy?"

Murphy's shock became anger and she motioned to Phil. "A change of pace? What's so wrong with Washington D.C., Phil?! It's a great place. Full of history, and... intrigue and scandal, _and the best hot dogs this side of the Mason Dixon line. I mean what more could one person want?"_

"Murphy, what's wrong?"

"I just don't understand it, Phil? Everyone seems to want to _pick up_ and _change _their lives. But what I don't understand is what was so wrong with the old one?" Murphy pulled out a seat next to the door and plopped herself down in it.

"Nothing, Murphy." Phil walked over to Murphy. "People change, things change, people move on with their lives, that's the way life is? That's progress." Phil pulled up a chair across from Murphy. "Now. what's wrong kid?

"Nothing…" Murphy looked Phil halfway in the eye. "I miss _FYI_ ...I...I miss my friends." Murphy looked away. "That's all. Everyone's moving on and I can't even get my _god dammed_ show on the air." Murphy played with her hands in her lap.

"Come on, Murphy, it's me. It's Phil, you can tell me."

"It's nothing, Phil. _I'll_ be fine. I always am." This time she didn't look at him.

"You'll be fine? How can you be fine if nothing's _not fine_ to begin with?" Murphy's face was serious and she said nothing. "Wow." Phil leaned back "I never thought there'd come a time when you couldn't tell me something, but there's a first time for everything."

Murphy began to fidget with her hands. Phil began to stand up.

Murphy looked straight out. "Jerry's asked me to move to New York for the summer."

"Oh. There is it," Phil said softly with his rasp. He sat back down and waited for Murphy to speak, or in her case, to ramble.

"I mean it's a ridiculous idea, Phil. I have work here. Of course _it is_ just for the summer. But I'd have to take Avery away from his friends. But then again most of his friends are at camp and he's been begging me to take him to a ballgame. But no!" She looked into Phil's eyes. "I _can't_ just pick up my life here in Washington and move to New York. I mean that would be crazy, I love Washington. _Washington_ is my life..."

"That's true." Phil seemed to be humoring Murphy while he waited for her to come to her logical conclusion.

Murphy looked away from Phil. "But then again what is my life here anymore? My life was _FYI_. And now that's gone. Frank's gone, Corky's gone, Kay. Miles!" She laughed. "And now Jim. I have no real job anymore, no office." She looked at Phil. "Where's my life, Phil? I want my old life back."

"I'm sorry, Murphy. I wish I could just wave my magic wand and make it all come back. _But FYI is over_. Everyone's getting on with their lives. Maybe your life is in such a stand still because you're not willing to go on with yours."

"Go on with mine? See, all you men are alike. You think that when a woman _hits a crossroads_ the change she needs is a man. _That she needs_ to be at the _beck_ and _call_ of a man. I don't need a man to have a life, Phil! Well, I don't. I don't have to change if I don't want to!"

"Whoa, Murphy, I never said anything about that. I'm not Jerry's biggest fan and the idea of you too living together doesn't exactly..."

"Here it goes again." Murphy sprung up from her seat. "Another person telling me _how wrong_ I am for Jerry. Well! Let! Me! Tell! You something, Phil! _I love him and he loves me_! He's good to me and...and... and that's all that matters!"

"Yes, that's all that matter, Murphy." Phil paused while Murphy's face took on a look of satisfaction and she calmed down. "So, when will you be leaving for New York, Murphy?" Phil leaned back in his chair

"I'm not moving to New York, Phil. I haven't made up _my mind_ yet."

"I think you have." Phil paused and looked at her. "In fact, I think you came into this bar tonight with your mind already made up."

"What are you talking about, Phil?"

"Why else would you be looking for Jim to talk to about this? I think with everyone leaving. And your problems at work have made you really consider Jerry's offer, and that scares you. You've already made up your mind, Murphy. You were just looking for someone change it."

"That's not true!"

"Then why didn't you come talk to me about it, Murphy? Jim sure as hell wasn't going to give you his unbiased opinion on the subject of Jerry Gold." Phil took a pause. "But you knew that I would."

"I _always_ talk to Jim about important decisions, Phil. I mean Jim was the first person I called when I decided to check myself into Betty Ford. I trust his opinions. And well, you've been so busy lately with all the news coverage and..."

"When have I ever been too busy for you, Kid?"

Murphy shook her head, showing the amazement of her thoughts. "But this is crazy, Phil! _I don't do this_. I don't just _pick up_ my life and follow a man around. I have my _own_ life and nothing should have to change that. That's not me. I do things for _myself,_ not others."

"Who says you're doing this for anyone besides yourself, Murphy."

"But pack up my life? My life is here."

"It's only for the summer, Murphy. And if it makes you happy. Will it make you happy, Murphy? Because, if it won't, don't let your loneliness for your friends force you to make this decision. Or are you just afraid that if you move to New York for the summer… you won't come back?"

"Of course not, Phil. Jerry's going to _try_ to get it into his contract that after three months, if the shows a hit, he can move it to Washington."

"He's _trying_..."

"_Yes, Phil,_ and it won't be a problem. The show is in New York because of money, once the show brings in revenue _they won't care_ where it's filmed. Mark. My. Words." Murphy sounded like she was trying to convince herself as a well as Phil.

"And if it takes more than three months, Murphy? That's saying it is a hit..."

"It will be a hit, Phil! Jerry's back to doing what he does best. And..." Murphy seemed sure of the statement, but not of the sentiment. The idea seemed to scare her.

"And if it's not in three months."

"I came back to Washington."

"I guess you've got it _all_ figured out." Phil paused." Of course there's always if the show's a hit why would they want to move it? And if it's not, does this mean you two go through this again, with the next job, and the next job?"

"Let's not get _ahead of ourselves_, Phil. _Jerry_ and I have based our relationship this time around on what's a happening in the _present_. Worrying about the future only leads to disaster. If you live your entire life in the future-"

"-Or the past-" Murphy shot Phil a look.

"-You burn the candle at both ends...you _ruin_ what you have which ruins the future anyhow. _So_ what's the point!"

"True, Murphy." Phil shook his head. "But when you set on that road sometimes it's nice to know which road on the path has the bridge that leads to the other side, or else you go over into the raven. I'm not saying all the time. I'm just saying _some of the time_." Murphy looked at Phil knowing he was right. Before she could even think of a response Phil smiled and spoke again. "You still haven't answered my question, Murphy? Will it make you happy, Murphy? Will spending _the summer_ with Jerry make you happy?"

Murphy shook her head and laughed. "How long have I been coming in here, Phil?"

"Too long to mention."

"I don't know _why_ I think each time I come in here with a problem it'll be different. That I'll come in _here _and you'll  
tell me what I want to hear. The only _difference _between _now_ and _twenty years ago_ is I'd come through that door and order a _double scotch_, smoke a carton of cigarettes and listen to _little Peggy March_ sing _I Will Follow Him_. I guess it's because even though I don't want to hear it all the time. I need to hear it." Phil smiled. "But I don't drink or smoke anymore..." She sighed.

"And I no longer have that jukebox."

"What ever happened to that thing?"

"Don't you remember, Murphy? You beat it up the darn thing a month before you checked into Betty Ford. "

"Oh wait, I remember that. It refused to play my song. It just kept playing Mandy, _over_ and _over _again. It's really your fault for putting that song in there in the first place. So, I wouldn't go blaming me for it."

Before Phil could answer, although he probably knew there was no point in giving Murphy a response, the door blew open and Jim ran in.

He noticed Murphy and Phil right away. "Murphy?" Jim looked flustered and out of breath.

"Jim?" Murphy turned her head to look in Jim's direction.

"Well, here's your chance," Phil whispered. "I'll leave you two alone." Phil leaned in and then stood up. "Jim."

"Phil." Jim nodded his head with a bewildered look on his face. Phil disappeared into the back room.

"Doris told me she found you waiting outside the house in _your car_? I must have just missed you." Jim sat down next to Murphy." She said you looked distraught. I was worried."

"I'm fine, Jim. I just needed to talk to someone." She looked at Jim calmly.

"Oh, well. I wish you had found me." Jim paused. "You talked to Phil?"

"Yeah, I did." She shook her head.

"Is everything all right now?"

"I think so."

"Because if you need another shoulder I have plenty to share."

"Thank you, Jim. That's what I love about you." Murphy looked into his eyes. "So, I heard you're going to be an editor, congratulations."

"Oh, I feel so _exhilarated,_ Murphy!" Jim pulled up a chair and sat down in an enthusiastic motion.

"Jim, I don't remember you mentioning being offered an editor position before? How did this all come about? It all seems kind of sudden? Don't you think? I mean… is this really something you think you'd want to do?"

"Murphy, when I first entered into _this business_ I wanted to not just inform people, but to enlighten them through knowledge, _the knowledge_ of what is to _come_, and what _is to be,_ by what is happening around them. So, that we as a people can _truly_ see where we are _going_ and where we have _come from_." Jim took a breath. "I feel as each day passes that it's getting _harder _and _harder_ to do that. So, it accorded to me why not start from the _ground up_. I mean, not only did I became a journalist to inform people, but to get _to know them_ _as well_, and intern perhaps even get to know myself a little better. As an editor of a small town paper not only can I truly do human-interest stories that touch people, I can get to know the people I am informing and influencing, by either what I do say or what I don't say."

"That's great, Jim, but the little town newspaper doesn't have the same influence it use to in small towns. With the Internet and five hundred cable channels the world is their backyard. Do you really think _you_ can turn that all around, Jim?"

"I think I can, Murphy. And it's not just that. You know there once was a time when I knew everyone by name and they knew me. The druggist was named _Al_, and I got my haircut from _Theodore_ the barber and my tenderloins from Burt the butcher and so on. I'd walk in and it would be, "Hello, Mr. Dial. How can I help you?" Or " How's the wife, Jim, can I get you your usual bratwurst." But today I'm just a bunch of numbers in a computer, or the next person in line. I long for a simpler time, Murphy."

"I know what you mean, Jim."

"OHH, I feel for the first time in a long time that I'm at a _momentous _crossroads in my life with so _many possibilities_." Jim saw a not so happy look on Murphy's face. "Somehow, I feel you're not as happy as I am about all this?"

"No, it's not that, Jim, I'm just a bit distracted, that's all. I've been thinking something over and I think I've really made up my mind. I'm...I've...I've made a decision about Jerry and me."

"Oh, I see." Jim took a sincere approach. "You know it's for the best?"

"What is, Jim?"

"You and Jerry? Any man who goes from one woman to another like that is bound to do it again. I think it's a complete lack of character..."

"Jim, Jerry and I didn't break up!"

"You didn't? But you were upset. You said you made a decision about the two of you? I don't understand?"

"Yes, I had a decision I had to make and it's something I just now came to a resolution about..."

"Oh. I see." Jim lowered his head down and then up again with excitement. "So, you're _just_ decided to leave _him_ then."

"No, Jim, I haven't!" She paused to give Jim the news lightly." I've decided to spend the summer with Jerry in New York."

"You're moving in with him _again_!" Jim's face was in shock.

"It's just for the summer, Jim!"

"How can you leave Washington for New York, Murphy?! If you want _rape,_ _mur_der, and _rudeness_ why don't you just stay here?" Jim sprung out of his chair and almost threw it into the table.

"Come one, Jim!" Murphy stood up. "You're moving To New Hampshire! Frank and Corky and Kay have all moved away. What's left here for me? I mean it's just a _few months_."

Jim looked like he had a sudden stroke of brilliance. "I don't have to go to New Hampshire! I could _stay here_!" Jim made himself gleefully happy.

"Jim?"

"I could start my novel again..."

"Jim, you said you never wanted to go back to that thing again!"

"It could be fun." Jim didn't look very enthusiastic.

"Jim, _I can't ask_ you to compromise your own life for mine, just as much as you can't ask _me_ to do the same for you."

Murphy's words hit Jim and he turned back into more of the gentleman he always was. He looked at Murphy lovingly. "I'm not going to change your mind here am I?" He smoothed his hand over his fist.

"No." Murphy smiled bitter sweetly. "At first I wanted you too. That was why I came to see you. I see that now. Well, first I drive around for two hours, but I know now... I have to go with my gut, and my gut is telling me I have to at least try this. It's telling me to_ go_."

"I don't know why I even try? Like anyone could ever change your mind." Jim looked to the left for a moment.

"You have on a few occasions, Jim. When it counts." Murphy's eyes pierced with intensity. "I would have never picked up that phone to Betty Ford if it wasn't for you, Jim. Or gone to that support group when I had cancer, or a number of things. I trust you, Jim. I love you, Jim. You're my rock. But this time. Just this once. You're going to have to trust me on this one. OK?"

There was a long pause while Jim looked at Murphy and seemed to be pondering his thoughts. "May I make one request?" Jim regained his dignity he felt he had begun to lose.

"Of course."

"That perhaps _once_ every couple of weeks you can put some time aside to have dinner with some old New England newspaper man - who happens to visiting the big old city."

"I think that can be arranged." Murphy smiled and paused before she decided to give Jim a big hug. "It's, ok, Jim. You can hug me back."

"Oh, I..."

"Jim, please..." Jim hugged her back tightly. After a long stay Murphy tried to let go of Jim's embrace, but couldn't. "Jim?" spoke Murphy's stifled voice. "Jim? Jim, you're going to have to let me go now."

"No." Jim held on tighter. There was a short pause.

"Jim! You're suffocating me."

"Oh." Jim let go and apologetically made sure that Murphy was ok.

* * *

_I see the clock on the wall, but it doesn't bother me at all. These are ever changing times. Every day I keep forgetting what's mine. I got to find me a way that's demanding. And were holding on together. All of our life. And I. I had some big ideas. So much of my life not completed hopes and fears. Watching them change into sometime new. Wondering if I'll find the answer loving you..._

**~ A. Franklin ~ Every Changing Times**

* * *

**TWO DAYS LATER**

Murphy looked around her empty office. The walls were bare, the shelves were bare, even the desk except for a small cardboard box on the table with her Emmy sticking out, were free of any and all objects.

"Well, that looks like everything." Jerry put his hands his pockets and looked around the room. Murphy walked over to the box and cupped it with her fingers.

"Looks like it." Murphy peered around her office in a despondent and nostalgic state. "Oh, wait!" She grunted. "Oh god, how could I forget this." Murphy walked over to her bookcase and knelt down.

"What else could you possibly have in here, Brown? _The Clinton's_ didn't take this much when they left the _White House_." Murphy removed a cupboard like door to reveal a safe.

"What's in there?" Jerry looked bewildered.

Murphy opened the safe and flung what looked like a large stake of computer printouts on to her desk. It was so heavy it made the table shake.

Jerry jumped. "What is _that?"_

"It's my book of pranks." Murphy gave him a look and knelt back down in front of the safe.

"What were all those notebooks I helped you _lug _out of here yesterday?

"Those?" Murphy, with more resistance because of its girth, dropped another equal sized stake onto the other. "Were my best of volumes. _This_ is more detailed. This is everything. Every prank I ever pulled." She let out a breath and laid her hands over the front page. "Every prank I have ever done are in these pages. Someday I'll donate it the Smithsonian. "Murphy hit the top, smirked, and returned to the safe.

Jerry walked over to the stack and looked it over. "Jeez, Brown, ever hear of the computer?" Just then three diskettes flew in front of Jerry onto the stake of papers. "Watch it, Brown!" Jerry lifted his arms back defensively.

Murphy gave him a look and scooped up the diskettes. "That's right, I forget last time I checked computer disks was listed under deadly weapons right after toy balls, stuffed animals, and those little stress balls filled with _sand_." Murphy crossed to her purse on her desk chair to find a place for her diskette for safe travel.

Jerry leafed through the first couple of pages. "Why do you have all these copies _and the disks_? And the safe, Brown? Isn't this a little...I don't know? Overkill? But then again this is you were talking about."

Murphy smiled off center. "You can never be too careful, Jerry." Murphy leaned down and locked the safe.

"Yeah, I'm sure the Russians, _or whoever we hate this week_, wake up every morning with two things on mind. World domination and how to successfully _short-sheet a bed_. "

"Short sheet a bed, like I'd be so immature to do something like that. Now glue in the comb that's a classic." Murphy stood up and walked over to her purse, slinging in over her shoulder.

"There's a table of contents?"

"There's also a cross reference by name in the back." Murphy seemed quite proud of herself. "I learned that one the hard way when _twice_ in one year I send an all-night vigil of the gay men's chorus to sing _Hello Dolly_ in front Newt Gingrich's house." Murphy laughed. "Not only is _repetition_ not creative, _it gets you caught_." Jerry flipped to the back of the large stake of papers he had been looking at and when he didn't find what he had been looking for he did the same with the second "tablet". "What are you doing?" Murphy walked closer to Jerry.

"I'm looking for me!" Jerry looked back down at the papers.

"Yes, the eighties...some of my best work," Murphy pondered.

"I've been dying to know if..." Jerry caught something. "Here we go...I knew it!" Jerry smiled and then looked up at Murphy. "Very good work."

"Well," Murphy fanned modesty.

Jerry flipped threw a few more pages till he found his name again. "Wait!? That was you!" Murphy walked closer to Jerry and peered over his shoulder at the pages.

"Oh, that." She laughed. "I'd forgotten about that one. Stroke of genius I must say. _Stroke of Genius_!"

It took me three months for all the hair to grow back." Jerry looked at her with his eyes flaming.

"As I said _stock of genius_. I believe it showed up on my decade in review list. Twice. Come on, Gold,, let's go."

"I don't know if I can forgive this one, Brown." Jerry smirked.

"So I guess this means we won't be having sex anytime soon," Murphy said deadpan.

"Let's jump this Popsicle stand. I'll go get the elevator." Jerry took the cardboard box off Murphy's former desk and went for the door. Murphy smirked at the moment.

"Jerry, what about theses?" Murphy pointed to the "book o' pranks."

"Are you kiddin' me, Brown?" Jerry swung himself around by the doorframe. "Something like that's gonna give me a _hernia_. We'll send the security guy up to get. _Come on, let's go_." Jerry whipped around and excited the door.

Murphy took her coat and threw it over her arm. She looked around the room and adjusted her purse strap and walked towards the door. Murphy reached the door and turned around one more time for one last look - a last glance at her office. Even though she had only been there for four years, not nearly as long as she had been on the seventeenth floor, it was still sad.

By leaving the office Murphy was leaving her past at _FYI_ behind and opening a new chapter in her life; a chapter with a new forward, which made her journey a foray into new territory. They say everything comes in threes and Murphy seemed to be entering a third stage of her life. She was realizing her new resurrection. There was post-alcohol, and post-baby, post-Cancer and know post-FYI. Each time a new step, a new challenge.

Now it was time to try love, really try it. Not second hand or half tried. No, not this time. She thought of the good times of the past, but Murphy knew she had to keep them where they were - in the past. Because, as much as she would wish it, they were only memories and she couldn't bring them back. But there was something she could bring back. Something she had resurrected that rainy night last month. And it was time to own up to it. Murphy took her final look at the office and began to close the door. Suddenly, she stopped and pushed the door back open. She walked over to the back of the door and outstretched her arm, grabbed her dartboard off the back of the door, and held it close to her. Now, she had everything. Murphy walked over to the edge of the light switch, put out the light, and closed the door.

Murphy walked outside her office and looked over the shambles of what once was the bullpen. She saw the memories of the last four years in every counter. She saw Frank eating donuts by the coffee island. Corky reprimanding him for eating like a pig. Jim standing above them like the Chrysler building, slowly stirring his coffee, while Kay bounded in with an insult and a smile. And then they were gone.

Murphy turned towards the elevator, and Jerry, just as the doors opened. Jerry walked into the elevator and held his hand in the way of the doors, as he waited for Murphy. She walked a few steps backwards, looked around, took a deep breath, put the dartboard under her arm, and then made her way into the elevator. Murphy looked at Jerry and then stared straight ahead. She took the box from Jerry in her right and looked like she was about to cry, but she didn't. And as the elevator doors closed Jerry took her left hand and kissed it. Murphy turned and smiled at him sweetly. And for a brief moment in a very long time the eighteenth floor was quiet, but not for long.

About two seconds later the left elevator doors opened and out walked, in all his masculine glory, Peter Hunt. He wore a denim jacket and a red shirt button down just enough to be tasteful and still show a little skin. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked around the old _FYI _stomping grounds, confused by its disarray. Confused, he stumbled through the bullpen looking around for any signs of intelligent life. He looked over his surroundings until he reached Murphy's office. He tentatively looked around and then knocked on the door before entering.

Not but a moment later the door to the elevator opened again and Murphy flew out alone. She held a small screwdriver in her left hand. Murphy looked around for any signs of movement and then ran over to the large "F", "Y" and "I" that sat on the right wall to her office. The FYI that had once stood by the elevator had already taken away by the construction workers or else Murphy would have taken what was left of them. Murphy climbed on top of a desk to reach them and began to try prying them from the wall.

"Thought I forget you didn't you?" Murphy mumbled to herself. She tried to take the "F" off the wall and when she couldn't she tried the "I". Peter walked out of Murphy's office and stopped at the sight of her.

"I guess the expressing "_taking everything_ except what's bolted down" is just a saying to you, isn't it?" Peter Hunt's laughing voice permeated from behind Murphy. Murphy spun around causing the "I" to drop to the ground.

"Peter?" She was more than surprised to see Peter Hunt standing before her.

_If you feel like loving me. If you got the notion. I second that emotion_

**_I Second That Emotion ~ Smokey Robinson and the Miracles_**

"Hey, Murphy." Peter Hunt leaned his hands on the edge of his back pockets and smiling slyly.

"You dropped your "I"." Peter walked over to the desk and handed it to Murphy.

Murphy was agog to see him. "Peter what...?"

"Here let me help you with that." Peter took the screwdriver from Murphy's hand. He jumped onto the desk and began to take the "Y" off the wall.

"What are you doing here, Peter?"

"I'm in town for some meetings." Peter took the "Y" off and handed it to Murphy. "What's going on here? Looks like war torn Bosnia without the charm."

"They're reinventing the floor. I had to move all my stuff out."

"I see that." Peter smiled and took the final "F" off the wall. Murphy was stunned by how great he looked. He always looked great, but he still looked, well great. His eyes twinkled. "You know all you need is an "M" like that." Peter pointed to the letters in Murphy's hands. "And a few hats and you could be just like Mary Tyler Moore."

"Marlo Thomas was the one with the hats! _Not_ Mary Tyler Moore!"

"But what about that scene at the beginning of the show where she throws up her hat."

"That was a _statement, _Peter. It was _a symbol_. By throwing up her hat she was starting her new _liberated life_."

"Oh, really? I thought it was just a fashion statement." Peter laughed and got that charming look in his eye.

"I think we should stop this argument now, Peter, because I'm going to _win_!"

"Who said I was starting _an argument_..." But Peter calmed himself. "But you know what?" Peter waved his hands about. "Let's not get into this again. How are you, Murphy?"

"Great! Wonderful! Couldn't be better. And you? Last I heard you were...well I can't remember the last time I heard where you were. What have you been doing with yourself? What's it been...six years?"

"You know here and there. I just got back from the Philippines."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's been a long six years. Especially, the last six months. You know, I was almost kidnaped with those people?"

"Knowing you I'm not surprised? You were always able to get out of harrowing situations unscathed."

"Yeah, I survived you, didn't I?" Peter laughed while Murphy tried to hold in.

"So, why are you here?"

"I've been thinking of taking a break before I head out again."

"Well, it's always good to take a rest before starting out on a more difficult journey. Replenishing your juices before taking that _leap_ again. It worked for you before."

"Yeah, I guess it did?" He smiled "So, do I at least get a hug. I mean isn't that at least the _customary _thing to do when you run into a man, after six years, who you almost married."

"Oh." Murphy shook herself into reality. "I'm sorry, Peter, I'm just so surprised to see you, that's all." Murphy awkwardly wrapped her arms around Peter and he around her. Surprisingly, they both felt a familiarity still.

As if by some predestined timing at the very moment of their embrace the elevator dinged and Jerry walked off. He stopped for a moment and looked off to the side, as if he was saying, "What the hell is this?" Jerry let out a large cough and the couple broke away. "Hello?" Jerry said in his brashest voice, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh, Jerry." Murphy looked at Jerry and then at Peter. "Jerry this is Peter Hunt, have you two meet?"

The two men looked at each other like two animals looking over their pray.

"Yeah, I know who he is." The two men spoke in unison. It was apparent from prior knowledge the two men did not have an affinity for each other.

Peter jumped down from the desk and the two men hesitantly offered up their hands for a handshake. It was so hesitant it fact one wasn't sure who had the inclination to do so in the first place.

"Yeah, nice to meet ya," Jerry said with all lack of enthusiasm. He turned his attention to Murphy. "Brown, you told me to hold a cab, I'm _holding it_! We wait any longer I think we'll be paying for _Mummhand_ and all eight of his kids to go to _college_."

"I'm coming, Jer." Murphy gave him a look. Murphy laughed to himself and shook her head trying to hold in her true feelings about Jerry's comment. Then Murphy looked like she was about to jump down from the desk and Peter offered up his hand.

"That's ok I can help her down!" Jerry pushed Peter aside. Peter did not like this.

"I think I can handle it myself thank you, Gold!" Murphy handed him the letters and jumped down herself.

"Well, let's get out of here." Jerry looked at Peter. "Nice meeting you, Petie!" Jerry smirked and walked quickly over to the elevator button.

Peter turned to Murphy. "I can't believe you ever dated that jerk."

"Well actually, Peter..."

"Listen, I'm going to be in town for a couple of weeks, why don't we get together sometime?" Peter laid his hands on Murphy's arms. "We could have dinner?"

"Well, I can't - I won't..." Murphy's voice had a twang of awkwardness in it.

"Come on, Brown, let's go!" Jerry screeched.

"In a second, Jerry!" she yelled at Jerry and then continued her conversation with Peter. "I won't be in town I'm going to New York."

"Well, how about when you get back? I'll be back in town next week."

The elevator door opened.

"Murphy, the elevator's here!" Jerry snarled.

"IN A SECOND, JERRY!" Murphy screamed towards Jerry and then regained her voice to speak to Peter. She turned to him. "Actually, I'll be in New York then too, but maybe some other time. When I get back." Murphy made her way to the elevator. "Jeez , _Gold,_ I'm coming, _I'm coming_!"

Peter lowered his head, shook it, and then followed her. Murphy and Peter stopped at the door to the elevator. Jerry rolled his head and eyes impatiently.

"How long are your planning on staying in New York? Maybe when you get back?"

"If you want to reach us we'll be in New York _until August_!" Jerry obnoxiously butted in. "Come on, Murphy!" He grabbed Murphy's arm.

Murphy hit him. "What are you doing, Gold?"

"_Wait, _you're going to New York with him?! You're back together with him!" Peter was infuriated.

"That's right, _Pretty boy_!" Jerry shot him an evil look and then looked back at Murphy. "Come on, Brown, I have to drop _you off_ and what looks like the reminisces of what the _Beverly Hillbillies_ carted off their pick-up and _still_ get to the airport on time!"

"So, you'll take a later flight!" Murphy took her letters from Jerry.

"I have a show in the morning, Brown..."

"You're going to New York with _him_?" Peter was still astonished.

Jerry turned to him and barked out a comment. "Yes, scud-stud. The ladies with me! So, you can't see her! "Murphy shot him a look. "You can't have dinner with her! Because she's with me!"

"JERRY!" She hit him again.

"What? What did I do?" Jerry truly was perplexed.

"What am I a person or a_ library_ book? Couldn't it _kill_ you to be polite! I can't take you anywhere!"

"Polite? Looks who's taking. I mean, who's the one standing outside-"

"You know, Murphy, its ok." Peter stepped back and put up his hands, trying to end the onslaught. "I'll be swinging by New York sometime this month. Maybe we can have dinner then."

"That sounds great." Murphy stepped into the elevator.

"Yeah, when you get to New York you just try and find us!" Jerry let go of the door and as it closed Murphy shot Jerry an evil look.

Peter turned around, rolled his hand over his face, and looked about the room. Everything was a big ball of confusion to him. Then his cell phone began to ring. Peter plopped himself down on the same desk he and Murphy had been standing on, only moments before, and answered the phone.

"Hello, Peter Hunt. Frank! Where were you? I waited for an hour for you at Phil's? I even come up to your office to see... How could you forget? FRANK, you said you had something very important to... oh, Frank, I'm so sorry... Is everything, ok? Good... Yeah, actually I saw Murphy... No, she didn't think you sent me. Why?" He paused. "She was with _Jerry Gold_." Peter rolled his eyes. "Did you know...? I can't believe she's back together with that loudmouth… I don't know. She seemed glad to see me, why?... What?... Well, I have tentative dinner plans with her...so, is this thing with Gold serious...uh huh...really!?... I don't know? But I think I'll be spending more time in New York then I had thought."

* * *

**LATER**

Jerry and Murphy sat in the cab in silence. They had been that way for the last fifteen minutes. They sat in darkness except for the small hints of light that fell from the street lamps, car lights, and so forth, from the outside world trickling in through the back and side windows. Murphy stared out the right side window with her hands wrapped around the small cardboard box on her lap. Jerry looked straight ahead, slumped down in the seat. He looked over at Murphy who then looked away from the window, but not at Jerry. Jerry sighed and looked ahead again. Since it was so late Jerry decided to go straight to the airport before dropping Murphy off.

"You know, _Brown_, you've been very quiet since we left the elevator. Is something bothering you?" He waited for an answer and got none. "I thought we always said we wouldn't keep anything from each other?" he said gruffly.

"I think you know what's bothering me, _JERRY_."

"OK. Let's just say for the sake of argument _I don't_. Humor me here, Brown!"

"I can't believe you acted that way back there."

"What? Why!? I find you in the arms of a man, another man, a man _mind you_ whom you've had a previous relationship with. And what? I'm supposed to invite him home _for milk and cookies_."

"It was an innocent hug, _Gold_. You don't need to be jealous."

"I'm not jealous!" Jerry threw it off, but it was true.

"I mean, just because I use to be _engaged_ to the guy."

"Wait a minute, you were engaged to _that _clown?"

"Yeah, where have you been!"?

"In _Germany,_ Brown, remember! Another country!"

"How could I forget!"

"When was this!?"

"About six years ago."

"Six years!?" Jerry was taken aback." Who was it that _three years_ ago said they didn't want a _long-term relationship _type thing because that wasn't "the type of gal they were"?"

"What is this, _Gold?_ Did you think that this was the first time I decided to be in a committed relationship!?"

"Well, yeah! You never seemed to want to be in one with me before!"

"I was married once you know."

"Yeah." Jerry rolled his eyes. "Nice marriage, I've had longer commitments with Kleenex."

"Give me a break, _Gold, _we've _both_ had our share of commitment phobias. And you have to remember one thing, Jerry. I _didn't_ marry him."

"I just thought...!"

"What!? That once you commit _to someone_ then it opens some sort of floodgates of _commitment_? It doesn't happen that way, Jerry."

"It did for me!"

"And who did that for you?"

"You did!" The car stopped short causing Murphy and Jerry to slide towards the front of their seats and then the back. Jerry, in a reflex action, took hold of Murphy with his arm for protection.

"AIRPORT!" yelled the taxi driver.

Murphy looked surprised and Jerry looked embarrassed as he took his arm away and leaned against his car side window. He looked away and then back at Murphy eyes, leaving the two in a brief silence.

"You alright?"

"Yeah." Murphy looked down.

"I have to go. Can we not fight for one time in our lives?" Jerry took his briefcase off the car floor. "I want to get on _that plane_ and not have us be fighting, at least not _this way_."

"Ok," Murphy whispered.

"Give us a kiss." Jerry gently laid his hand on Murphy's face and kissed her. "I'll see you in New York _on Monday_."

"See you on, Monday." Murphy looked pensively at Jerry and he smiled bitter sweetly at her, as if he wasn't sure he believed her, before disappearing out the door.

Murphy could hear Jerry take his bag out of the trunk and then the car drove off. Murphy slumped into her seat looking confused.

* * *

**LATER THAT NIGHT**

Murphy sat at her stool in her kitchen looking exhausted and frustrated, listening to the music she knew would relax her; Little Peggy March singing _I Will Follow Him_, the irony of which was not lost on her. She leaned into the center counter and looked over the steaming George Forman grill in front of her. Set about the area were three plates full of chicken and hamburgers all in different stages of cooked and uncooked. It was two in the morning and Murphy had been up for hours trying to figure out the device that Jerry had given her.

"Whoa, it smells like a _rotisserie_ in here." Eldin clamored into the kitchen with two paint cans.

"Eldin!?" Murphy spun her head around. "I've been trying to _get_ in touch with you for the last three days! "Where have you _been?_"

Eldin rested his paint cans next to the closet door. "Yeah, I know. There must be a hundred messages on my machine. You know, if you're going to call so many times at least have the _courtesy_ to leave a message. Because once the message goes on it _just records_ those little beats and after about the tenth in a row it starts to get _annoying_."

"This from a man who has five minutes of _Margaritaville _as his outgoing _message_ for the last _thirteen years_."

"What's with all the boxes and suitcases in the hall?"

"That's why I've been trying to get in touch with you! Avery and I have decided to spend the summer in New York... With Jerry."

"Oh."

"Where have you been?"

"Locked in the stock room over at Ed's paints!" Eldin got all rattled up and gestured with his hands.

"What? How did that happen?"

"It's all Ed's _fault_! He told me I could catch up on some sleep in his stock room. But then he _forgot_ and locked me in there for the last three days. That man has hated me for years. I think it has to do with the fact that I called his Taupe Royal - _Beige_. But he won't admit it."

"Are you alright!"

"Yeah. Are you?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know? You're attempting to cook?" Eldin looked over the display. "We're not having guests, are we?" He looked over the surroundings. "Because I'm not really in the mood to entertain tonight."

"I can't seem to get this to work right!"

Eldin walked over to the empty grill box next to one of the plates of chicken and looked it over. Murphy opened the grill and looked into it with a confused look on her face.

Eldin picked up the box. "It says here on the box you're supposed to marinate the chicken...he, he, that's funny, its talking _as if_ you know what that means." Murphy shot Eldin a look as Eldin began to read from the box out loud. "Cook the chicken for three minutes."

Murphy closed the grill cover back onto the chicken. "I did that Eldin and it didn't come out right! It was all pink and raw. That's bad, right?"

"Maybe you should put it in longer?"

"I did that! I kept it in _longer_ and then I kept it in _shorter_. E_very time_ I _try_ it _never_ come out perfect like on the _box_! _I tell you,_ Eldin, this _George Forman_ is a scam artist! And we need to bring him down now and we have to bring him down _fast_!"

"I see my absence has only made you more neurotic." Eldin dropped the box back next to Murphy.

Murphy ran her fingers through her hair and lowered her head with a grunt. She supported herself by her elbows. "Oh, Eldin, I don't know if I should be doing this?"

"I think you should have realized that when you first entered the kitchen in the first place. I don't see why you don't just turn it into a hobby room slash rumpus room? God knows you'd get more use out of it." Eldin took a cookie from the cookie jar next to the sink.

"No, _leave Washington_ for the summer…" Murphy lifted her head up.

"Whatever you want to do." Eldin closed the cookie jaw and started to walk away when he stopped. "I will miss having someone around this house. Not you. _You,_ I could live without. But I'd miss Avery." Eldin leaned on the edge of the counter. "But if you love this guy you should go." Eldin took a bite of her cookie and seemed to enjoy it. "New York is so beautiful in the summer. The lush colors...I wish I were going."

"Why don't you?" Murphy loved her own idea.

"What?"

"Come to New York with us, Eldin?"

"Nooo."

"Jerry and I will be busy a lot of the time with work and Avery will need someone to take care of him, not to mention keep him company. And you know how he adores you. It would give you a change to catch up on your sleep and you've be saying how you've been looking for some new inspiration? Why not a change in environment for a few months?"

"Oh, I don't know…" He averted his eyes from Murphy for a moment.

"Come on, Eldin. Come with us? You could get away from your neighbor for a while. Go to the museums, sit in the park and _paint_...or do you want to spend the summer perhaps re-enacting scenes from _Harold and Maude?"_

"I wouldn't have to stay with you two would I?"

"No, Eldin, I could put you up in a hotel if you like."

"No, no. Eldin Bernecky _will not_ be a kept man! **Oh**! That soundedreally bad." Eldin paced a bit and lowered his head.

"Come on, Eldin, what do you say?"

"I guess I could stay with my pal Steve, and Ma's been bugging me to come and visit."

"There ya go."

"And I would love to show Avery the Guggenheim."

"So, were going to New York then?"

Eldin looked like he was stuck between thoughts and then he answered. "I don't know if unleashing you on New York City is such a good idea? I mean you've alienated enough people in one town, why destroy the life force of a whole new city, not that you haven't done that before, but this is longer than a couple of days. It leaves no time for them to _recoup_. Of course, it is New York City. This might be a town that could _reach havoc_ on you instead of the other way around. What am I saying?" Eldin began to laugh. "It's you!" Eldin pondered for another moment. "I suppose I could come, but not for long, maybe only a month!"

"Great! We leave tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow! I better go pack." Eldin went for the door. "I'll have to bring my sable brushes and..."

"Eldin, you don't have to bring your equipment. You won't have to paint anything. I want you to come as my guest...as my friend."

"Ah." Eldin looked at Murphy, his eyes blazing. "There is always something to paint!" And he disappeared.

Murphy smiled at Eldin's words. She looked over her display of culinary skills and whispered to herself, "We're going to New York."

* * *

_"Some folks like to get away, take a holiday from the neighborhood Hop a flight to Miami Beach or Hollywood. I'm taking a Greyhound on the Hudson River line I'm in a New York state of mind..."_

**~ Billy Joel**


	3. CHAPTER THREE: Re acquaintance

**Chapter Three:** Re-acquaintance...a.k.a. "Livin' for the city."

Something old, something borrowed, and something **blue**.

* * *

See the way he walks down the street  
Watch the way he shuffles his feet  
My, he holds his head up high  
When he goes walking by  
He's my guy

When he holds my hand I'm so proud  
'Cause he's not just one of the crowd  
My baby, oh he's the one  
To try the things they've never done  
Just because of that they say

He's a rebel and he'll never ever be any good  
He's a rebel and he'll never ever be understood  
And just because he doesn't do what everybody else does  
That's no reason why I can't give him all my love  
He is always good to me, always treats me tenderly  
'Cause he's not a rebel, no, no, no  
He's not a rebel, no, no, no, to me

**_He's Rebel ~ The Crystals_**

* * *

**MONDAY**

The elevator dinged and Jerry walked off with a cocky stride. He walked off onto the tenth floor, his own floor, the headquarters, and the liar of the newfound "Jerry Gold Empire". It not only housed his office and staff of his radio and television show; it was where each day Jerry recorded his radio show, live onto the world. It was only on Sundays that he ventured one level down, at the GE building at thirty Rockefeller Plaza, where he broadcast his television show to the nation. Although both of these ventures had only been in progress for four weeks and it seemed hard to tell if either show was actually a hit yet, by word of mouth they both seemed to be strong. Only time would tell.

All of this made Jerry ecstatic, nervous, uncertain and perplexed. He wanted so badly for the show to be a success. Making it big in Europe was amazing, but being back on top again, back home, meant so much more. Not to mention, as Jerry had told Murphy, it was his chance to be taken serious, on his own terms of course. There wasn't anything Jerry liked more than pushing the envelope, busting it all apart and watching the bureaucratic known–it-all's squirm, and sizzle, in their own juices. It was one of the few things that brought him a thrill and a chill up his spine.

Still, Jerry was unsure what the success or failure of his radio and television venture meant in the whole scheme of his relationship with Murphy. Either way success or failure could mean the rise or fall of his love life. It was so ambiguous that one wasn't sure which side of the coin one would be rutting for. Besides, Jerry hadn't been exactly forthcoming with Murphy. He had insinuated that the move to Washington was a done deal. He had insinuated more then he should have. But Murphy was a smart woman, she knew the game, and she knew it wasn't all certain.

Jerry made his way past the shiny broadcast booth towards his office. As he rounded the corner, his secretary Donna emerged from his left and began talking to him, as if this was an ever day occurrence. Donna was a tall beautiful woman with caramel skin and short dark hair. She wore short skirts, which Jerry liked, and spoke her mind when it was called for, which Jerry enjoyed, but didn't always like.

"Her plane came in about an hour ago," Donna informed him.

"Did you try her cell?"

"Yes, but there was no answer."

"Keep trying, and when you get her patch it through to the conference room. And you said you tried her at home?"

"Yes, Jerry!"

"Is Ira here?"

"Yes, he's waiting for you." They turned another corner.

"Damn traffic in this city. What's on tap?"

Donna handed Jerry a folder, as they reached the door to the conference room. He put the folder under his arm and turned to Donna, who then handed him a mug of coffee she had been holding in her hand the entire time. Jerry burst opened the door with his back and entered his morning meeting.

The conference room where Jerry held his morning meetings was a semi large rectangle room with an equally large window on the left side. The room was completely brown wood with a large narrow table, in the same motif, engulfing the room at its core. Jerry threw down the folder next to the phone on his side of the conference table.

Ira sat at the other end. "What happen, you fall in a ditch?"

"Traffic." Jerry took a gulp of his coffee and set it down. He picked up the folder and opened it, reading the contents inside. "What's this crap I'm reading?"

"Bullshit on Carvile. You need the info for the interview."

"I thought I read this?" Jerry looked up.

"This is new."

"So, has he agreed to come on with me live on Sunday?"

"Not yet. We're still working on it."

"You know _I hate_ phone interviews." The intercom buzzed and Jerry hit it. It was his line so he knew it was Donna. "Yeah?"

"I can't get through anymore. The phone is out either out of service or out of the calling area." Jerry got a strange look on his face. "Have you tried the apartment?"

"No answer. And the doorman said he hasn't seen her yet."

"Yeah." Jerry hit the intercom and Donna was gone.

Jerry distractedly looked down at the phone in deep through. He snatched up the phone, in what could only be described as a jump of the hand and with his free fingers, which held the receiver, dialed the phone. He held it to his ear and listened. He took a swig of his coffee and waited impatiently. After a moment of nothing but disappointment he slammed the phone down.

"Jerry? What's going on? What's wrong?" Ira watched Jerry get up from his chair.

Jerry paced for a moment and landed next to the window, looking out as if he really wasn't looking out for the view. "Nothing," he snarled in defense.

Ira looked uncomfortable because he knew what it was, but he wouldn't say anything.

"Where the hell is Carol?" Jerry looked at his watch. Ira without a flinch, use to Jerry's outburst, hit the intercom on his phone. "And it's hot in here."

"It's June in New York City, Jerry!" Ira spoke into the phone. "Donna, where's Carol? We're waiting in here for her!"

"She just called - she's on her way. She's running late"

Jerry started to pace again, but then broke away from it and looked out the window. He looked as if he was going to break out of his skin, but broke out with his voice instead.

"This is ridiculous! Are we having a morning meeting or what?" Jerry paused for a moment. "You know what, scratch this. I'll be back. I got to go home and... Get something." He went for the door.

"Jerry! You can't leave!"

"Don't _worry_ I'll be back before the _broadcast_." Jerry reassured him with a shrug and walked out the door. Ira took a pencil and threw it onto his notepad and the table before grunting uncomfortably.

* * *

**LATER**

The sounds of New York hit the pavement like the concrete it was made of. The sounds of car horns honking, wind rustling through the trees in uneven beats, not to mention the rapid pace of pedestrians on the street walking, and running, and pounding their limbs into the pavement on their way to "important" things.

Murphy stepped out of her yellow cab, putting her hand to her forehead to block the glare of the sun. It was beautiful June day, which if not for the occasionally light breeze would have made the yellow dipped day unbearable. A light breeze hit Murphy's face as she looked up at the large building in front of her. It was Jerry's Park Avenue apartment, Central Park West to be exact, and Murphy and Avery's new home for the next two and a half months. Murphy looked at it in dread. She never thought she would live, if only for three months, in a Park Avenue apartment. She always saw them as gaudy and extravagant. Murphy was more the upscale townhouse type, like her home in Georgetown, a nice area that was in the thick of it all, but still quiet and out of the way. But that was many of the things that she and Jerry had different ideas about.

"Oh, god," she said to herself.

As she spoke, Eldin emerged from the cab behind her. He looked up towards what Murphy was looking at and then back at Murphy. Eldin gave her that look in which he could always tell what she was thinking. He paused for a moment before speaking. "You know you don't have to stay here? We could rent a nice brownstone in the West Village..."

"No, Eldin! _Getting_ my own _place _signifies _permanency_! I'm _only _staying here for the summer. There is _no_ reason for me to get my own place. _No reason_ at all." Murphy stepped away from the car and onto the curb. Eldin turned around and helped Avery out of the car.

"Well, hello, Ms. Brown." Murphy turned to see the doorman walking towards her, his voice very joyful.

That was the other thing Murphy didn't like about big fancy apartment buildings, they had doormen. Murphy never could get use to the concept. Don't get her wrong, she loved the idea of someone getting her cabs, and picking up her dry cleaning. But with doormen also came tipping, and small talk, and those where two things Murphy hated. And if you didn't do those things you were pegged as rude, and the next thing you know everyone in the building hates you and your garbage mysteriously piles up outside your door. Murphy didn't want that.

"We were expecting you," said the sweet-faced, pale skinned, young man with round features. Murphy looked at him strangely and wary, as Eldin walked to the back of the cab to get the suitcases. Avery followed to help him. "Yes, Mr. Gold told me to look out for you."

"Oh." Murphy made an "O" shape with her mouth as she said it.

"My name's Danny, I'm the doorman most of the day. There's also Tony. We trade off." Eldin walked onto the curb with two suitcases and one case slung over his shoulder. Danny crossed directly to him. "Let me help you with that, Sir?"

"That's ok." Eldin looked at him with an odd look. More of a look to the fact that the situation was odd and not the look Eldin gave itself. "I got it."

"No, really..." Danny tried to grab the bags and Eldin leaned away with another strange look on his face.

"Hey!" Eldin began to circle Danny, pointing his finger at him. "You stay away. Back. Back."

Danny watched him walk away. He looked back at Murphy and took a pair of keys out of his pocket. Holding them by their single gold colored key chain he displayed them in front of her. "Here are your keys." They clanged together as he released them from his hands to hers. "Let me show you up."

* * *

**UPSTAIRS**

Eldin opened the door and dumped down the suitcases near the doorframe. He looked over the large apartment, his face agog. Murphy walked in, behind him, and when she saw the lavish space she stopped short.

"Oh my _god_?"

"I know." Eldin slowly walked forward. "What I could do with this ceiling." Eldin began to walk around surveying the room like the painter he was. "White walls? Who has white walls?"

Behind Eldin came Avery. He stood next to his mother. "Cool." He looked over the space and its high ceilings, as the headphones he wore blared music so loud that even Murphy could hear it. He looked over at his mother. "Can I go see where my room is?"

"Yeah. Sure." Murphy didn't even look at her son as she said it and he disappeared into the adjoining hallway.

"Who _needs_ this much _space_." Murphy dumped her purse next to the bags in the foyer and made her way into the large living, which like Murphy's own townhouse connected the foyer without much of an adjoining wall. She peered into the entrance to a large hallway, as she made her way pass the archway to the living room. Eldin walked in front of her with a quicker stride, looking up and around, as if in his head he had already envisioned a mural. He looked over the room for only moments and then walked towards the kitchen door to the left, next to the living room, and looked in.

"Whoa!" And Eldin disappeared

Murphy took her time surveying the apartment. The living room was set in an offset octagon shape and looked twice the size of Murphy's own living room, filled with black and grey furniture, all in Jerry's style. At the center of the room, its core, were three large black leather sofas made into a "u" shape and a small glass coffee table in front of the center couch. All of this lay upon a small oriental type rug, which sat on wall to wall carpeting the color of dust. It was the only real color in the room. It was the one thing that didn't give away the fact that a decorator had created every "livable" space in the apartment.

Murphy walked into the living room and passed a small desk to her left that was flush up against the wall. As she did this she noticed a large brick fireplace, with a huge mantel and a small mirror set on its backside, against the wall it stood behind. Murphy passed the couch, and looked at the large window behind it, leading out to the equally large terrace. Then she walked past the couch to the fireplace to its left. Not really investigating everything she saw, just digesting it all to get a feel of the place.

As Murphy got closer to the fireplace not only did she start to notice her own reflected in the mirror, but the reflection of the spare mantel back at her, spare except for a small picture Murphy noticed in the corner. It was so small that it's brown frame blending into the mantel itself. Murphy moved in closer, almost squinting towards the picture and picked it up. It was small black and white picture of Murphy. She was surprised and touched to see it. The picture looked about ten years old, which was part of the surprise of it all. It was a lovely close up picture of Murphy. The light hit her face in just the right way, hitting her blonde hair. Her head was titled to the left, away from the camera, as if she was in mid laugh. Murphy had never seen the picture before. She tried to remember when it had been taken. It looked like it was outside, perhaps the park. Murphy was also surprised to find the picture because it seemed not to be a Jerry thing to do. Then again, when the two of them where together they never seemed to be the type to take pictures of each other. Murphy in fact could not think of any other document of their times together as a couple. This seemed to be the only record, because she now remembered Jerry had taken it, but it wasn't much of a record since he wasn't even in it with her.

Murphy put the picture down and made her way behind the couch and noticed the terrace again, deciding to check out the view, but stopped when she noticed the dining room to the left, in an out cove type extension to the living room. She stepped up a small step and peered into the dining room, which looked so immaculate one only though that it couldn't have possibly been used. She looked around for a moment, as if she heard something, and then walked over to the sliding door and onto the large terrace.

"Oh, it gets worse!" she said, walking past a table, chairs and some shrubbery, to gaze at the picturesque view of the park.

Just then Jerry burst through the door. He flung his keys on the table next to the door. "Murphy?" Jerry yelled Murphy's name as he made his way into the hallway.

Murphy thought she heard something and spun her head around and then her body, as she made her way off the terrace. Murphy looked around, her head leading the way, and made her way around the couch, as Jerry appeared opposite her, out of the other entrance to the hallway next to the terrace. He stopped short when he saw her so not to show her his anxious state.

"_Jerry, _what are you doing here?"

"You're here?" he said astonished.

"Yeah, Jerry, why aren't you at work?"

"I forgot something…" Jerry walked over to her and planted a short kiss on her lips. "I tried you on your cell? There was no answer?"

"I'm having trouble with it again."

"What now?"

"I slammed it against the doorframe about seventeen times. Why were you calling me on my cell, is something wrong?" she said speeding through her explanation to get at the real question that plagued her.

"No." He shook it off.

"Did you want to tell me something?"

"No."

Murphy looked at Jerry for a moment before speaking "Jerry, did you think I wasn't going to show up?"

"Noo. No. Of course not."

"Jerry...?"

"No!"

He took her hands and was about to lean in closer for a deeper kiss when he stopped at the sound of Eldin entering the living room eating a leg of chicken.

"Do you know there's actually food in this place?"

"Oh, no! Don't tell me _he's_ staying here!"

"And a pleasure it is as always to see you again too." Eldin went back to his eating.

"Don't worry, _Jerry,_ Eldin is staying with friends in town. He's only helping me with my bags_. Jeez_!" Murphy eyeballed the heavens.

"I'll get the rest of your stuff; I have to get over to Steve's before noon. He refuses to answer the door during the _Young and the Restless_. And once _the Bold and the Beautiful_ kicks in, _well, _there's no way reachin' him." Eldin made his way to the door.

"Eldin, wait! Where's my..." Murphy broke away from Jerry and ran after Eldin

_"Oh, please_, you now where it is! You never let it out of your site." Murphy gave Eldin a look. "You know I'm surprised the people on the plane didn't think you had _a bomb_."

"I mean where did you put it, Eldin?"

"By the door!" Eldin by this time had made his way into the foyer and then with his final remark was out the door.

Murphy dug into a pile of bags and pulled out a small carry on. From the bag emerged her golden Emmy, looking shinny and feminine in Murphy's grasp. Murphy looked at it with awe.

"You brought your Emmy with you?" Jerry watched as Murphy walked into the living room with it. "The way you _treat that thing_, I'm surprised you don't list it as a dependent on your _taxes_." Murphy shot him a look, holding the Emmy beside her. "I think you're _a little too_ attached to that thing, Brown?"

"You'll understand more if you _had one_," she said slyly. Murphy turned around and peered at the mantel, as if she was looking for the perfect spot. "Of course that's a privilege that only happens to _special people_."

"_Brown_, I came home one day and found you sleeping with it!" Jerry put his hands in his pockets and walked closer to her. "Not that I mind being in bed with two women..."

Murphy gave Jerry a look, her lips perched together. "She's my good-luck charm, Jer. There's only been _three _separation occasions where I've been _without her_ for so long. _Once_ on a vacation where I was _snowed_ into a _cabin resort_ with Andy Rooney, Dan Qualye, _and _Newt Gingrich, which in its self is _self-explanatory_. _The second,_ while I was at Betty Ford, _although a fruitful experience_, not _exactly_ the _most pleasant_, and _the third!_ While, I was in London during a year-end sale at _Harrods_. Let's just say thanks to the absence of this _baby_ my wardrobe is minus the _perfect_ _silk blouse_."

"I'd say it was more good-luck for whoever got it and you _didn'_t. If you did they could be _dead_."

"Yes, but I'd have a very nice, _inexpensive_, Donna Karen _blouse_."

Murphy turned around and placed her treasure on the mantel.

"Not that I wouldn't encourage _homicide_ for the sake of you looking good…"

Murphy set down the Emmy carefully and then looked back at it. "I even tried to get them to ship it to me at Betty Ford." Murphy moved the Emmy a fragment of an inch. "But for some _stupid reason_ they wouldn't let me." Murphy looked back at her.

"Gee, I don't know, maybe because it doubles as a _deadly weapon_!" Murphy gave the Emmy one more look, adjusted it, and pretty happy with herself walked away from it. "I called you on your cell? There was no answer?" Murphy made her way towards the door as Eldin entered the apartment again.

"Yeah, you said that."

"Here." Eldin handed Murphy the box from his arms. "I have to get going."

"Thanks, Eldin. I'll call you tonight about picking up Avery tomorrow."

"Alright, see ya." And Eldin was gone

"Well, was the service down?" Jerry demanded, as he was still waiting for an answer.

"Nooo," she said, giving him a horrible look. "I told you, it broke."

"Then what happened this time?" Murphy picked up a second box and looked at Jerry.

"I was talking to Stan this morning and I _accidentally_ slammed it against the doorframe seventeen times." Murphy smiled. "Books? Where can I put them?" She was referring to the box in her hand.

"The bedroom or the study."

"Bedroom _sounds good_." Murphy eyes lit up and she walked into the hallway.

Jerry followed her. "Second door on the left."

Murphy walked into the bedroom and stopped for a moment, as she looked it over. Like the living room it too was in black and grey.

"Jeez, Gold, is there any _color_ in this place? It's like a _Turkish prison_ in here! Men? " Murphy spotted the bookshelf on the other side of the room, next to the walk-in closet, and set the box in front of it. Murphy left the box where it was and turned to Jerry.

"So, what do you think of this place? Huh? Huh?" Jerry spread out his arms.

"It's nice." Murphy shook her head up and down with little enthusiasm.

"Nice, _Brown,_ it's the penthouse! Park Ave!"

"To be honest, Jerry." She paused for a moment. "It's a bit big. I mean, look at all this space and _that view_..."

"Brown, it's as big as you place in DC!"

"No, it can't be? It just can't be! It's just a ...bit too… gaudy for me. There I said it."

"Gaudy?"

"Big, _extravagant,_ that's all. Not my style."

"Not your style? You know, Brown, if you _don't_ _like it_ no one's forcing you to stay here! You are _more than_ welcome to get your own place. Get a nice brownstone in the village or in the west eighties. I don't care!"

"_Oh no_, we've _had_ this discussion. This is only _temporary_ Jerry. TEM-POR-ARY. So, there is no reason for me to get my own place. _No reason_ what –_so_-ever!"

"I see!" Jerry sat down on the edge of the bed.

Murphy could see he looked upset. Murphy sat down next to him. "Jerry, this has nothing to do with us, with you. Washington is where my life is."

"I know, I know." He looked at Murphy. "I just wish you could be a little more excited about it! I mean I wasn't even sure if you'd show up today."

"Me too. I kept making _ever excuse_ this morning so we'd miss our flight. I forgot something, the oven wasn't turned off. I needed to fill the _jar_ _of nuts_ in den. But you have to realize this has nothing to do with you, Jerry. As crazy as it is I...well I care a lot about you...ohh, hell I love you. Are you happy now!" Jerry smiled. "This is just a lot for me to get used to, ok. Just remember it _has_ _nothing _to do with you." Murphy kissed him and Jerry kissed back. There was a pause while they looked into each other's eyes.

"How can you not like this place is?"

"Jeez, Gold, you'd think I was insulting your manhood! It's just an apartment!"

"I spent a lot of money on this place, so you and Avery..."

"Ahh, what do I have to do to shut you up!" Murphy grabbed Jerry's face and planted a large passionate kiss on him. This shut Jerry up. He began to push Murphy backward onto the bed.

"Mom, Mom!" Avery's voice and person came racing down the hall.

Jerry and Murphy looked at each other. This meant they would have to get up.

"And this is why his room is on the _other side_ of the _apartment_!" Jerry grinned and Murphy hit him. He leaned in closer for one last kiss.

"Mom?" Avery entered the room, causing Jerry to cough and sit up on to the bed. "Which one is my room?"

"I'll show him." Jerry took Avery out of the room. Murphy sat up on the bed smiling and then pushed herself off to move back into the living room.

As she has just passed the hallway and started to enter the living room she heard the familiar enthusiastic voice of Miles Sliverberg.

"Murphy?" Miles knocked on the door and peered his head in, before letting his body enter.

"Miles?" The two caught site of each other, as they each entered the living room. "What are you doing here?"

"What? I can't come welcome _my_ favorite ex-co-worker on her first day in _my_ town."

"Your town, Miles? What is this _East Side_ story? Will the Jets be joining us later... or can they _not rumble_ after sun down?" she said sarcastically

"_Come,_ give me a hug." The two met each other, between one of the black couches and the door, and gave each other a big hug

"I thought you'd be at work?"

"I just told them I was _welcoming _the networks _top_ reporter…" Miles fake punched Murphy in the arm. She didn't find it amusing.

"Miles, what's wrong with you, you're too energetic. I think maybe you should consider Lithium."

"I'm sorry; it's just that it's so great to see you! And well, I have some news…" Miles smiled in his child like way, as Murphy face began to light up.

"Miles, you old dog you…" Murphy started to inch towards Miles slyly.

"How'd you find out? I wanted it to be a surprise," he said pretty proud of himself.

"You know I didn't believe me when Frank told me you might be..."

"Frank! How does he know? I just..."

"You're getting married, Miles! Congratulations!"

"What?" Miles face changed.

"After that whole _debacle _with Corky, I wasn't sure you'd do it again. Hell, before Corky we never through anyone one _would_ be _crazy enough_ to marry you..."

"No, no, Murphy, I'm not getting married."

"You're not?"

"No. I'm not even seeing anyone seriously"

"What about that girl you brought to Frank's wedding? He said you too were real serious."

"Well, I was serious about her. We broke up. I _was_ on one date with Vivian from legal. Why? What have you heard?"

"Then what's your _news, Miles_!"

"The network has _agreed_, since you're in New York and all." Miles got his serious face and brought his hands tip to tip towards his mouth and then took them away to announce his news. "To let you anchor the Evening News while Dan is on assignment for the week!"

"NO!"

"Yes! You, me, working together again! National News. 30 share! My idea! Thank_ you, very much_!

"Miles, that's _fan_tastic! It's been _my dream_ to host the nightly news. It's the only thing I always dreamed about that I never got, well that and marrying Fabian, and of course the abolishment of culottes, but this is **_soo _**_much better_!"

"I know," Miles smiled seriously.

"So, when do I start?"

"Next week."

"Great, then I have this first week to get my special in order."

"How's that going?"

"Ok. Could be better. I finally have an executive producer, so it's only uphill and _more Emmy's from here_!" Murphy laughed and smiled.

"Murphy, why don't you say I take you and Avery out to dinner tonight to celebrate, sort of a _welcome_ to New York. I mean, once you start your research for your special I'm sure I'll never see you while you're here. Outside of work for that one week."

"Oh, that's nice, Miles," Murphy walked over to the door and grabbed another box from the door. "But we'll probably be busy. How about another night? I just need to..." She made her way to the mantle, as Miles interrupted her.

"Oh, come on, Murphy, you shouldn't spend your first day in New York unpacking. That can wait. Let's have some fun. Let me treat you." Murphy set the box down next to the fireplace and looked at Miles.

"It's not that. It's just since it's our first night in New York we have plans."

"Already with who?"

"Brown!" Jerry's booming voice announced his presence with perfect timing, as he entered the hallway on way to the living room. Miles face began to go from sane to insane. "I cleared out the left side of the walk in closet for you. I hope that's enough room. Unless of course you were planning on making a _shrine_ to your Emmy in there."

"What's he doing here?" Miles yelled in a devilish gurgle, as Jerry entered the room.

"Hello, Sliverberg, a pleasure as always. Collecting for Unisef again are we?"

"He _lives_ here, Miles."

"Lives _here_? _Lives here_?" he yelled at Murphy and then looked at Jerry. "You're supposed to be in _Germany._ And **M**_arried_. And **_DEAD_**!"

"Miles, you're the executive producer of the _Evening news -_ you _can't_ tell me you didn't hear he was _alive_!" Miles looked at Murphy

"I was hoping it was _a rumor_!" Miles voice was still reaching his lower register, which he reserved for overreacting.

"I love to stay and remissness about the good old times, Sliverberg, but I have to get back to work." Jerry began to feel his pockets. "Oh, my cell phone." And he disappeared back into the hall.

"You're living with _Jerry Gold_? How did this happen?" Miles began to act as if it was hard for him to breathe, his body bent over, as he sucked in air every few moments. "What is this some kind of meno_pa_usal _in_sanity!" The last re-mark didn't bode well with Murphy.

"Why is this _always_ everyone's response? You'd think after ten years you'd all get _use_ to us being together!"

"Like one can ever get use to a sickness _like that, Murphy_! Why _didn't_ you _tell_ me?" Miles began to sit down. His voice was still a groggy like sound, although his breathing seemed to get easier.

"Gee, Miles, I don't know. I thought maybe if I did you'd insist on _registering us at Burgdoffs! What do you think!_ And anyway, I thought you knew? Frank was supposed to tell you!"

"Well, _he_… Didn't!"

"Well, hello there!" Corky burst through the door like a ray of sunshine holding a casserole.

Murphy frowned. "Mental note! Close door. Corky, what are you doing here, shouldn't you be at work?"

"But I had to come welcome you to the city! I made you and Avery some food. I figured you'd be too busy unpacking to... well… order in." She handed Murphy her tray.

"Thank you Corky that's very sweet..." Murphy took the tray not knowing what to do with it. Corky looked over at a distressed Miles.

"Oh, hi, Miles, I didn't see you there."

Miles looked up at her with an evil look on his face. "She's dating Jerry Gold!" he snorted.

"Yes, Miles! Old news! Where have you _been_!" Corky sank down on the couch next to Miles. "I was trying to forget it. Thank you, _very much_!" Corky began to cry a bit and rummaged through her purse for a tissue. Murphy rolled her eyes while Corky looked around the apartment holding onto her purse for dear life. "It's a nice place, Murphy." Corky had a look on her face that could only tell she didn't mean it. "It's very...grey...and black. It's black and grey."

"I didn't pick it all out Jerry did." She rolled her eyes and head to the side.

"Why did you let him to that?" Corky said with no real idea what was going on.

"Because it's _his_ apartment."

"_She'_s living with him!" Miles sprayed at Corky in his distressed voice and then receded back into his own world of pity.

"What?" Corky looked at Murphy flabbergasted.

Murphy was having enough with the situation. "Yes. It's true! Deal with it! I am _living_ with Jerry Gold!"

"You're what?" Frank Fontona's voice sailed through the room.

Murphy whipped her head around to find him at the entrance to the living room. "_Frank, _what are you doing here? I thought you were in the Hamptons?"

"I had to come into the city on _business_. I _thought_ I'd _stop by_! I thought you said you were staying in _New York_ on _work_ related business."

"I am! And because Jerry asked me!"

"Oh, god! This _can't _be _happening_!" Frank stood at the edge of the couch near the door and the coffee table, while Murphy stood at the edge of the center couch near Miles.

"_Frank,_ I thought we were _handling_ this!" Murphy gritted through her teeth.

Frank composed himself. "I'm sorry. You're right. I'm sorry." He gestured with his hands.

"But she still could have found her own place!" Miles scoffed "Even _David Koresh_ let his followers live in separate quarters."

"Yeah, hell would be better than living here! With him!" Corky stood up and grabbed her tray of food from Murphy. "Well, I'm taking back my food, Murphy! I don't want _him_ eating it. I made it for _you_ and Avery _only_ and I don't want him eating it! It's mine!" She sat back down on the couch with her food.

"I'm not getting my own place! I'm only staying here for a few months! So I don't see the point! Are you done now or do _Jim and Tammy_ _Faye_ have anything nice to say!"

"NO!" Corky and Miles mumbled at Murphy.

"Now, come on guys." Frank tried to calm them down. "Murphy has _officiously_ made a decision in her life. We may not like it. But we should at least _respect it."_

"Ahh, Frank!" Corky and Miles whined.

"Thank you, Frank." Murphy was touched.

"Frank, what's come over you?" Corky looked at him flabbergasted.

"I made Murphy a promise that as her friend I would respect her decision and be happy for her." Frank and Murphy looked at each other and smiled.

"Well, I don't have to!" Corky bent her body towards Murphy.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, I don't see why we can't all get together and talk about other things besides me and Jerry .You should all take a lesson from Frank here."

"Oh, yeah, _denia_l - that's really healthy for my colon, Murphy!"

"Ok, _stop it!_ There has to be _other things_ going on in each other's lives that we can talk about then this! Things that can put us all in a _happier _mood!" Murphy looked at Corky. "Corky why don't you start! What _happy_ and _lovely_ things are going on with you?

"Well, ever since Lester got his promotion at work I never see him. It's like I'm still single, only _worse_. I can't get a descent story going at work, after Diane Sawyer and Barbara Walters I seem to get the pick of the litter...And I think Mr. Puffy may be dying."

"Ok, good. Miles?" Murphy turned to him.

"Well, let's see, the woman I love only wants to be friends, my blood pressure is way up, and I think Dan Rather may be switching my skim milk with whole milk. I'm sure of it. His eyes are so shifty whenever I bring it up."

"I can't complain!" Frank said joyously. "My life is great!"

"Oh, just rub it in, _Frank_!" Miles yelled while Corky grumbled.

"No, really. The twins are out of the woods, Lesley's doing great. We're thinking of getting a dog. A real collie, dusty brown, but with _bite_! A _man's _dog! Yeah!" He laughed and made a clenched fist downward.

"See!" Corky sprouted up off the couch. "There has to be something wrong with the universe when _finally_ after decades of _aloneness_ they're both happy just when where _not_." She jetted out her arm.

"Ok, _that's It_, everyone out! The Prozac train is leaving the station!" Murphy pushed forward with her hands and crossed past Corky and Miles to the other side of the couch. "Corky, get a job - Frank, get a...dog, and Miles, _get a life_!"

"I still don't care what you say; we don't have to like this!" Miles grunted.

"And I'm _still_ taken my casserole with me!" Corky sped past the foyer and out the door.

Miles began to follow her as he spoke. "Just remember you're to blame if your child is _scarred for life_." He paused for a moment in the foyer before exiting. "And you tell him he's not allowed on _my set_. No footsteps! No _leering_. He can't even _breathe _fifty yards from that anchor desk! It's mine! To you hear me MINE!"

Murphy took a moment to react horribly to Miles and Corky's exits and then gave her attention to Frank. "Frank."

Murphy and Frank eyed each other for hugs.

"Murph" They hugged each other.

"My best pal!"

"Yup." Frank looked down in a usual Frank way, but not usual for the situation.

"Listen, I can't stay long, I just...I just wanted see that you got here alright." Frank backed up and looked around. "Nice place." He looked at Murphy. "I was hoping we could have lunch..."

"Sure. I'm probably still be here unpacking. Why don't you come pick me up?"

"I'm not sure if I can make it today. I'll call you in a..." Frank almost tripped over the edge of one of the couches as she walked closer to the door. "If not, I'll see ya soon." Frank shot his hand towards Murphy and then looked like he wanted to say something. He shook his head, laughed, and walked out the door. Murphy took it in, but wasn't sure what to make of it all.

Murphy collapsed herself onto the center couch. Jerry emerged out of the hallway and walked around the left side of the couch, by the mantel, watching Murphy, as she needed her neck and shoulder with her fingers.

"What's wrong, Brown?"

"My back is _killing_ me."

"Hey, let me, that's what I'm here for." Jerry sat down next to Murphy who had a huge smile on her face at the thought of a free massage. Murphy turned catty corner towards the door as Jerry began to massage her neck. Murphy lowered her head forward and enjoyed herself.

Suddenly, Frank burst into the room again. "Murph, I forgot to tell you..." And he stooped his sentence and his footing as he caught site of Jerry. "Hi, Jerry," Frank's voice was unenthusiastic.

Murphy lifted her head. "Frank?" Murphy looked up at him.

"Fontana." Jerry just smiled and raised his eyebrows, knowing what he was doing would annoy Frank more than any words he could come up with.

"You know what, I can tell you later…" Frank started to walk backwards for the door.

"No, Frank, you seem distressed what's wrong?" Suddenly, Jerry hit the knot in Murphy's back. "Oh yeah, that's it!" she groaned.

Frank looked visibly uncomfortable. "Well, I..."

And Murphy groaned in pleasure again, this time leaning her head towards Jerry.

"Yes, Frank?" Murphy looked at him, waiting for his replay. Frank had an uncomfortable look as he was searched for the words. "Well..."

Murphy made another sound in reaction to Jerry. "Your know you're really good at this… Maybe tonight..."

"Ok, I'm out of here!" Frank went for the exit and Murphy ran after him catching him at the door.

"Frank, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just can't stand there while he _does that _to you!"

"Frank, it's only a massage! I don't know how many times I was stuck in a room with you and some girl doing god knows what with your..."

"Murphy, I'm sorry…"

"Frank..."

"I'll talk to you soon." He leaned in and kissed her on the check.

"Frank, wait." She grabbed his arm as he began to exit the door.

"What did you want to tell me?"

"I...I don't remember." He smiled and walked out the door.

Murphy was left feeling confused and sad. She stood there for a moment trying to shake off her funny feeling about the whole passing of events.

* * *

**LATER**

That night Jerry and Murphy got reacquainted with each other. It was at night that everything seemed perfect. It was when they were alone that everything seemed to work. It was once they left their cozy, isolated, environment that all hell seemed to break loose. Until then, Murphy was happy in Jerry's arms, but subconsciously she felt they were on thin ice. Not only were they in new territory in their relationship, ground they had never stepped upon, they were out in the elements, the air, uncovered, in the real world.

Murphy slept soundly, her body sprawled out on the bed in an unfaltering position. Jerry laid next to her just on the bed's edge. Murphy, being the flair-er she was, while she slept, twisted her body towards Jerry, kicking him off the bed and causing him to hit the floor with a thud. This woke Jerry up instantly. He grunted and grabbed the comforter from his side of the bed and climbed back into bed. He looked over at Murphy who had rolled back to her side of the bed, hugging her pillow in comfort. Thinking that it was over Jerry laid himself back to sleep. But not for long, for not two second later Murphy turned again, throwing Jerry back down to the ground, talking the comforter with him. He landed backwards with another loud crash.

"Ok! That's it!" he yelled. Murphy woke up, although groggily and turned on the light.

"What?" Murphy voice sounded like Bea Arthur early in the morning.

"You have to stop doing this, Brown!" Jerry stood up with the comforter still wrapped around him.

"What? Jerry, it's..." Murphy looked over at her clock radio. "Four-thirty... it's _four-thirty_, Jerry! What the hell could be this important?"

"You keep _kicking_ me out of bed, Brown..."

"I'm sorry Jerry, but we haven't been in the same _bed _for weeks. I've been use to sleeping on my own!"

"Brown, you've been doing this ever since I got back in _Washington! Hell_, if memory serves me here, you've been doing this ever since we've been together!"

"Will you stop doing that? You always do that! _If memory serves me._ You always say _that _and you know that's not true! You always think you remembered it right, so why don't you say that!"

"Well, I'm right!"

"No, you're not!"

"Murphy!"

"Can we not fight about this now? I'm too tired to think."

"No, we can't! Not until we deal with this!" Jerry tried to walk, but realized he was so wrapped around the comforter, so it was impossible. He unwrapped himself and threw the converter onto the bed. "You're going to have to get used to having _me around_, Brown. I think that's the real problem here. I can't see how I'm supposed to think it's not me when..."

"I think your reading too much into _this_!"

"I don't think I am! I mean, if you can't get used to me being in bed with you then..."

"I'll get used to it, I will. I've spent so much of my life sleeping alone. It's going to be very hard for me to get used to you being around. But I will. I've done it before... I think? I must have? I will! I promise!" There was a pause. "Now, will you come back to bed?"

"Well, I don't know now." Jerry took a puppy dog look on his face. He was faking. Murphy got a cross look, which only meant one thing to Jerry. "Alright, alright." Jerry crawled into bed and Murphy laid her head on his chest, felling the fabric of his cotton pajamas. After she had made herself comfortable Jerry began to lightly stroke Murphy's hair. "You know what could solve this whole thing completely…" Jerry broke the silence.

"What?"

"One of us could just sleep on the couch."

"No, Jerry, that's not fair… and well... I'd miss you... Being in this big bed alone..."

"Oh, no I wasn't talking about me moving to the couch. I was talking about you." Jerry smiled and Murphy made a face and hit Jerry in the chest. He groaned in pain.

* * *

**TUESDAY**

The elevator dinged and Rachel dashed off the elevator. Her brown eyes still a little glazed over from just walking up. She wore a purple tank top and jeans, not the appropriate outfit for work. Behind her she dragged a dry cleaning bag with seemed to fly with the same wind that propelled her forward. Rachel was late for work, but not as usual. She caught site of her boss, Russell McCoy, coming towards her, as she made her way to her cubicle. Being a tall skinny man about Rachel's age with flaming red hair and matching goatee it was hard not to notice him.

"Russell, I am _so sorry_," she said to him, as he met her halfway between her cubicle and the elevator doors.

"You're late…"

"I'm sorry…"

"You were supposed to meet your camera crew an hour ago…"

"I know," she pleaded with him. "I over slept..."

"Again. This is the third time in the last few weeks. This is not like you, Rachel." Rachel hit her cubicle and hung her cleaning on a tall lamp next to her desk.

"I know, _I know_. I haven't been able to get a lot sleep lately, I don't know what... I. I… I will fix this." She turned to face Russell. "Did you get someone else to cover the story? We didn't lose it? I called as soon as I got up."

"No, Nadine was in the area, we called her in."

"Good, good." Rachel ripped open her dry cleaning bag and took out a blue jacket.

"Rachel this is isn't like you so I've been good about it before, but you missed a story this time. We all can't suffer just because you can't handle the pressure..."

"The pressure?" Rachel threw her jacket on over her tank top. "Let me tell you something, Russell. If anyone can handle the pressure around here it's me!" Rachel contained herself for a moment and whispered to Russell. "I going through something right now, I'm sorry, but I'll be fine. Nothing like this will ever happen again. I promise. I'm a professional." Russell didn't seem to know what to make of it. "Besides, I have a feeling this whole mess is about to leave town."

"It's not a female thing?" He whispered.

"No!" Rachel rolled her eyes.

"OK." Russell regained what he felt was boss like behavior. "But you've been warned." Russell walked away, as Rachel shook her head.

Rachel took the matching shirt to her jacket out of the dry cleaning bag and stepped into it. She pulled down her jeans underneath and threw them in a drawer before zipping up the back of the skirt and buttoning it. Rachel smoothed down the front of her shirt and then pulled open another drawer and snatched out a pair of thigh high nylons and a black pair of Mary Jane heels. She took a look around and quickly threw on her nylons and heels before grabbing a black cassette tape off her desk and taking a power walk to editing.

* * *

**LATER**

The day after Murphy moved into Jerry's apartment she was on her way over to the CBS building with a "smile" in her step. Before Murphy had left Washington she had made plans for CBS to supply her with an office in which she could work, as well as a studio for her to film the live portions of her broadcast, etc. Since Murphy was the cornerstone of their network, CBS bent over backwards to accommodate Murphy for her stay in New York City. Murphy would have nothing interfere with her work, even if that meant transplanting everything, including her new executive producer to New York. Since Murphy was only doing an hour special every three months, all her work in New York would be towards one show, and then she could be back in Washington for the rest of the run. And now that in the interim she would be hosting the Evening News she would have even more things to fill her time. Maybe moving to New York wasn't such a bad idea?

Murphy arrived at the CBS building at around ten-thirty, was shown her office, which was still being painted and was assured that the secretarial pool was impeccable. Since the office was being painted there was no way Murphy could unpack her things and putter around. But then what could she do?

She could try and find Eldin and Avery on their tours of the Museums of the city, but she couldn't remember which one they had decided to go to that day. Jerry had told her he would be busy for lunch so that was out. There had to be something she could do except go home and re-read the same research over and over again. There was nothing more for her to do on her story until her interview the next day. Murphy felt like a college student on the day after finals.

So, for the few moments she had before the painters started their second coat Murphy sat back in her new leather chair, so new she could smell the freshness of the leather, and looked around her office. "Oh," she thought to herself, it was "good to be back." Even though it had only been a few days since Murphy was in an office she still missed being in one. Murphy was one of the only people she knew who would dream of work while at home, instead of the other way around. Murphy missed everything about being at an office and being hard at work on a story. She loved the first bite she would make to a brand new number two pencil. Sure, she could get that anywhere, but there was nothing like the taste of a number two soft straight from the supply closet. And that great sound that penetrated through her brain as she started its first point into electronic sharpener. "Oh," Murphy loved that sound. But then Murphy got a sinking feeling in her stomach. There was that other thing that Murphy loved the most at an office and that was the people. Murphy's eyes sank.

* * *

**ACROSS TOWN**

Rachel walked out of her boss's office and made a beeline for her cubicle. She was not happy. Russell had taken her off the waterline story and told her just to work on her piece for the eleven o'clock news. The title was "Food Gone Bad" and as one could guess Rachel didn't like the story. Usually, that was the type of stories she got. It was only one out of every ten that Rachel got something she considered juicy; like the waterline story.

As she made her way to her desk she tried to avoid getting her eyes tangled with Russell's Secretary Mabel. Mabel was sweet and all, but very nosey. She seemed to feel that since the two of them had desks near each other and where women, that that meant they were the best of friends. Once Rachel caught Mabel's attention she was sure to start small talk on a wide variety of subjects Rachel had no notion or care to talk about. But this time, as usual, Mabel and her curly red curls caught Rachel and dashed right to her side. She smiled at Rachel with her short red curls clinging to her head like a twenty something Shirley Temple.

"Hey there, Rachel!" Mabel bobbed, on her perky little heels over to Rachel, while Rachel continued to cross to her desk.

"Hello, Mabel." Rachel tried to fend some enthusiasm and a smile.

"You got another bouquet!" she said with a light insinuation in her voice.

"What?" By this time Rachel had reached her cubical area she noticed a vase of spring cut flowers on her desk. She stopped and stared at them as if they scared her.

"This makes the third one _this week_!" Mabel grinned and leaned on the edge of the cubicle. "Can't be from, Miles? You too broke up, right?" Rachel looked up at her with a surprised look. "It's all over the office." Rachel gave her a cross look. "There's a card?" Her eyebrows raised up, as Rachel reached around the vase, until she found the card and opened it, knowing full well what it would say. She closed it quickly and threw it on her desk. "So, who's Jerry?"

"What!" Rachel looked up at Mabel with a scared look on her face.

"Sorry, I took a look." She leaned her chin on her arms.

"I wish you wouldn't do that..."

"Is he a _secret admirer_...?"

"Mabel!"

"Why won't you see him? Any man who sends flowers three times in one week deserves at least dinner." Mabel played with the flowers for a moment. "I mean they're so lovely…"

"You know what, Mabel." Rachel picked up the vase and handed them to her. "Why don't you take them?"

"But they're yours…" Mabel took the vase.

"_No, really_, I think you should have them. In fact…"

Suddenly, Rachel's attention was taken to behind Mabel near the entrance to the newsroom. It was Jerry. Rachel's heart skipped a beat and her eyes felt like they would fall out of her head. She saw him talking to someone and then it looked as if he was walking in her direction. Rachel turned her body so her back faced the door and Jerry. She looked around trying to catch her breath. Mabel could see something was wrong, but before she could say anything Rachel spoke.

"I have to get to editing." She grabbed a black tape case from her desk. She looked towards the door again and moved Mabel's so she was blocking Rachel's view of the door. "If anyone..." Rachel looked towards the door and then back at Mabel. "Asks for me tell them you have _no idea where_…." She could see Jerry was getting closer, her heart quickened. "… I am or when I'll be back." Rachel took another look at the door. "Oh, god!" And then made her quick exit in any direction opposite away from Jerry Gold.

She walked quickly and with determination, even at times leaning her head with her hand over her forehead, as if it would hide her face from Jerry's view. She didn't really know where she was going. The editing bays where in the whole other direction, so she was out of luck there. Suddenly, she spotted the elevators at the end of the newsroom. Somehow she had made her way in a circle, as she diverted from Jerry at every step, checking behind her, at intermitted times, to check the progress of her cloak and dagger game.

On her last look she didn't see any sight of him, but one couldn't be too careful. She jumped for the elevator button, nervously checking out both doors for a sign of escape. She looked at the elevator numbers above the doors and then towards the newsroom, impatiently waiting for her exit or perhaps a cigarette when she got to the bottom.

"Rachel?" Rachel heard a familiar female voice behind her. She turned around to discover it was Corky Sherwood.

"Corky!" Rachel looked towards the newsroom and then back at Corky. "What are you doing here?" Corky looked very pleased to see the girl.

"My boyfriend works in the building." Corky peered into the newsroom. "I thought you'd be over at the main building with Miles office?"

"No, we're here." She nodded her head and then pushed the button again in a rapid set of threes.

"Why is that?"

"Well, ever since the local news added that _window on the world_ idea they had to move the broadcast over here for...for… you know… sake of room." Rachel looked towards Corky's direction again." And I guess for a better view. That whole window thing and all. So we moved with them." Rachel turned away from Corky and pushed the elevator button ferociously again. She looked up at the numbers. "Come, on! Come, on..." She looked towards the newsroom again just in time to catch the far away figure of Jerry coming towards her. Rachel wasn't sure if he had spotted her, but she wasn't going to hang around to find out.

"Why in such a hurry, Rachel? Are you late for something?"

"Late? Late yes… I… I… have to meet my camera crew downstairs.." She looked at her watch. "In wow! Five seconds… So, I better get going."

"Oh, well, you know we really should get together sometime..."

"Sure, Sure." Rachel looked towards the newsroom and saw that Jerry was gaining in her.

"I was thinking Saturday? You, me, Miles? How does that sound?" The elevator dinged and opened like a life raft

"Saturday?" Rachel looked towards Jerry again and he was getting closer. "Sure, fine." Rachel threw herself into the elevator.

"Rachel? This elevator is going up."

"I don't care!" Rachel turned around just as the elevators started to close.

"I'll get you both dates!" Corky smiled.

"Dates?" Rachel looked scared as the elevator closed completely.

Corky smiled to herself as she thought about the good deed she felt she was about to do. She started to walk away, leaving her back to the elevator, as Jerry Gold flew into the elevator area to find nothing he was looking for. Thinking he had just seen the elevator close he pushed the button as ferociously as Rachel had just done, but nothing came of it. He slowed his pace and looked down, rubbed his thumb and forefinger against his forehead, cursing himself and the situation. As he did this he turned around and caught site of Corky walking away.

"Well, hey there, **S**herwood-**S**liverberg!" he said with the usual enthusiasm that he had when he was about to have a good time at someone else's expens.

Corky tried to run, but Jerry circled her blocking her quick exit. "Jerry Gold, Jerry Gold_, Jerry Gold_." She frowned deeply at him.

"Sherwood, what is with this _constant _repetition of my name every time we meet? If you're having so much trouble _remembering my name_ maybe you should try writing it on _your hand_." He smiled at her wickedly.

Corky walked backwards towards the elevators "_Why _are you _here_? Please, don't tell me you film your show _here_?" Corky had a disgusted look on her face.

"Sorry to disappoint you _puddin' pop_, but I'm here on _other_ _business_." Jerry pointed towards the newsroom, as he walked closer to Corky. "The local news is doing a report on the _hot_ men of talk radio." Jerry leered towards Corky and leaned in." If you're good I'll let you _sit_ on _my lap_ during the interview."

"Ugh!" Corky shook off the idea physically and was so disgusted she pushed her way past Jerry and down the hallway. Jerry's sparing match with Corky was over leaving the two in their usual tempers; elated and appalled.

Jerry watched her leave and then pretty satisfied with himself turned around, his face directly up against the elevator door, just in time for the elevator door to open, revealing Rachel in the sliver cabinet. She had not expected the doors to open and the two equally had not expected to see each other. Jerry's smile turned into the look of a frighten boy and the two were caught in each other's presence, like two dear in the headlights. It only lasted a brief moment, although it felt like an eternity. Rachel dashed for the elevator button.

"Wait! Wait!" Jerry saw her going for it and pushed his hand in-between the doors. Rachel still tried to make the elevator close. She looked at Jerry. "Please! Let me _just_ talk with you?"

"What is there to say?" she said coldly.

"OK, I deserve that. I just I just…" The elevator door began to open aggravating Jerry. He pushed it back closed which aggravated Rachel. She rolled her eyes. "If you'd just get to know me…"

"Oh, I know you." Rachel let go of the elevator button and folded her arms. "I've seen you on TV. You're _Jerry Gold. You're_ _King _of Trash TV, oh… I know you." She looked Jerry dead in the eye. "And I don't associate with_ trash_!" Her eyes were a blasé and it scared Jerry in a way that made him back away from the elevator, causing Rachel to hit the close button and send the elevator down.

What it really did more than scare Jerry was hurt him on many levels. It was his own fault that his daughter knew him only through the television screen and Jerry knew it. It was just painful to have her throw it back in his face. All Jerry wanted was a chance, a second chance. A chance to make-up the past with a new present, but Rachel seemed to be attached to the past more than Jerry had thought. He knew it would be hard, he just thought it wouldn't be this hard. In so many accepts it was going to be difficult for Jerry to out-fox his past actions. Just like he did with Murphy he would have to find a way for his daughter to know him for him and not his persona.

Inside the elevator, Rachel's body slightly shook with anxiety. She leaned up against the back of the sliver box and took a breath, gripping the bars on the wall with her hands. Her body began to shake, as she looked down feeling horrible for what she had just done.

Outside the elevator, Jerry was livid. He stepped back in anger and walked to the elevators at the other end of the hall. He found an open elevator and angrily walked into it. His face flaring as he rode the elevator down with only one thought - to get out of the building as fast as he could.

As Jerry hit the ground floor he took his pack of Marlboros out of his pocket, thumbing one from its home into his mouth. Once he hit the revolving doors to the sunlight he lit the cigarette's edge with a gold lighter from the same pocket he had replaced the pack from. He took a lustful puff in and then out into the summer air before reaching back into his pocket and popping open his cell phone.

Whenever Jerry was around Murphy he would begin smoke less and less. He was started to act that way again, but this moment he was in need of a cigarette. On the other side of the building Rachel was doing the same.

* * *

**DOWNTOWN**

Murphy made her way out of the CBS building with determination. There had to be something she could sink her teeth into today. In the elevator she had a sudden inkling to call her father. It had been something that had been on her mine, since Jerry and his daughter had crossed it. She took out her cell phone and was even about to dial when she thought of a million reasons why she shouldn't call him. Murphy felt all the emotions she felt as a child, anger, betrayal, and fear and so she dropped the phone back in her purse and tried not to think about it.

As Murphy exited the elevator on to the floor level her phone rang. Murphy pushed her purse forward, from behind her, and slid the strap half way down her arm and dug around for her phone. She found the phone and brought it to her ear, just as she began to exit through the doors to the street. Across town Jerry was doing the same thing, as he waited for Murphy to answer to the phone.

"Hello?" Murphy walked down Fifty-Second Street, as she talked.

"Wow! I'm in shock here? You actually answered your phone? How long have you had this one? _A DAY!_? I think it's a new record?"

"Jerry, what do you want?" Murphy smiled, but of course she knew Jerry couldn't see it. Just then a man on the street bumped into Murphy. She yelled at him to watch where he was going in a more colorful tone.

Jerry pulled the phone away from his ear and then back to speak again. "Lunch. What ya doin'?"

"Walking up Fifth Ave over at Fiftieth." Murphy said with the action behind it of "I wish I was doing something else", as she turned the corner of the street on to Fifty-Second towards CBS.

"Great! I'm walking on Fifth over at Fifty-Seventh."

"Where do you want to go?" Murphy stopped on the corner of Fiftieth, jetting her foot out and putting her hand on her hip.

"Any ideas?"

"No." Murphy looked around.

"Well," Jerry thought for a moment. "Why don't we walk towards each other and see what we come up with?" Murphy looked around for the way she came and began walking uptown. Jerry did the same walking downtown.

"Alright." Murphy adjusted the phone on her ear. "So, did you go?"

"Yeah."

"And..." There was a pause while Murphy waited for Jerry to speak.

"Brown, she doesn't even want to talk to me!"

"Oh." Murphy didn't know what to say. "She will," she finally said to assure him.

"I don't know, Brown?"

"Oh, come on, _Gold_, all you have to do is what you do best. _Nag _at her ' till she gives in, just like you did with me. Like you do with _everyone_."

"You weren't there, she was _so_ cold."

"Sounds like your first encounters with all women, Jer."

"No. That's just you," Jerry smiled

Murphy and Jerry walked at a quickening pace. They were almost near each other. Murphy crossed against the light at Fifty-Fourth and Jerry waited for a car to pass at Fifty-Fifth. They were just about to run into each other. Half way between one expensive shop and another Jerry and Murphy caught site of each other among the crowd. They still spoke on the phone until they were face to face with each other. They smiled and closed their phones. Jerry leaned in and kissed Murphy quickly on the lips.

"How about a bar I know on sixth?" Murphy asked.

"No, we can go to a bar anytime. It's going to be a long time 'till we will have the time to have lunch together. Let's go someplace nice. Quiet."

"Ok?" Murphy thought for a moment.

"How about Twenty-One?" Jerry sprung in with an idea. "It's close… it's nice and we're shore to be pushed past everyone to get a table."

"Ohh, I love that." Murphy eyes glowed. "Come on, let's go." Murphy started to walk towards the direction Jerry had come from.

"Brown, where you going? Twenty-One is this way." Jerry pointed his body toward the direction Murphy had come from.

"No, it's this way."

"What are your talking about, Brown, you just past it? _Twenty-One_ is across from the CBS Building on..."

"No, it's across from The Plaza..."

"It's across from CBS!"

"I think I know where Twenty-One is, Jerry. _I have_ been in this county longer then you in the last eight years."

"And I think _I_ know where Twenty-One is! You know, Brown. I did live here for over twenty years..."

"Yes, while I have been coming here for the _last thirty_. So, it's best to go with what _I say_. And I say the restaurant is this way!"

"You know..."

And so it started, Jerry and Murphy got into one of their heated fighting matching – tempers, nostrils, heads and hands flaring. It came to the point, at usual, that neither of them where really listing to what the other was saying just trying to prove their point. They made a complete spectacle of each other. People walked past noticing the couple in a way they wouldn't have before. A woman stopped and leaned in towards the couple seeming to recognizing one of them.

"Hey, aren't you..?"

"Stay outta this!" Murphy and Jerry said in unison, turning their heads towards the woman like animals protecting their pray, and then back to their fight complete with a few hundred "you always," "that is _so_ wrong", and "don't even start!" This scared the woman to no end and she scurried away.

"Fine!" Jerry concluded, directly in Murphy's face like a bulldog.

"Fine!" Murphy continued, with the same gesture, and the two walked off in a huff in opposite directions.

* * *

**FRIDAY**

Rachel Margolis fixed her hair as she waited impatiently for her camera crew. It had been a stressful couple of weeks. She was feeling the pressure at work, which caused her aggressive tendencies to come out more than usual. This in turn caused the obvious tension for her boss which intern put more pressure on her. She hated when that happened.

Sometimes she felt great for asserting herself, but other times it seemed to be out of hand, like she couldn't control it, as if it was a part of her chemical make-up. Not to mention, lately she had been feeling a lot more insecure than usual, but as usual she did everything not to show it. That was one of the great things, unknown to Rachel that she got from her father, the ability to put on a façade in order to stay in control.

It all seemed to start a few months ago. She had just broken up with Miles, she seemed to feel fine about it, but it still made her sad. At least that's what she told herself. And then out of the blue, out of nowhere she receives a note from her father, wanting to see her. She hadn't seen him in over ten years and thought she would never see him again. Not since he left her in the care of her grandparents and never returned, not since her mother died. Not that she saw him too often before that. And then two months ago, when she read on the AP wire that he was presumed dead, she seemed to feel nothing. At least that's what she told herself.

But there was a part of her that always wanted to know him, and then there was the part of her who didn't want to be hurt anymore. The part of her who was sick of giving the men in her life, the people in her life, fifth and sixth changes, only to have them do what they always did and that was leave.

She hadn't meant to be so cruel to him that day, it just came out and she didn't want to back down. The one thing Rachel had learned over time was when you back down from something you look weak, and she didn't want to be weak. She always had to be the one in control of the situation. Rachel just had to keep telling herself that old dogs can't learn new tricks. Therefore, the whole event, like many others in this emotional turbulent time of her life, had left her frazzled. Rachel could feel she was at a crossroads in her life and therefore it made her more tentative then she would usually. Rachel felt warn down and she didn't know why; she was still so young. Maybe Miles was right, make she was running herself into the ground. All she had to do was get through this day and the weekend would be upon her, and with it relaxation.

Suddenly, Rachel spotted Keith coming towards her, he was one of the segment producers, and alongside him was Bob one of the local CBS camera guys. She hated Bob. Bob was a horse's ass, a pompous chauvinist jackass, who at every turn harassed Rachel to no end. It all started when she refused to go out with him, not that he wasn't crude before, but after that he seemed to have some sort of vendetta against her. And it only got worse when she started dating Miles. With every crude and ruthless remark he seemed to revel in the mischief of his words. He taunted her with accusations of sleeping with Miles to get to the top and went so far as to tell everyone in the office what he thought of her, and so she wasn't the best loved person at work. Rachel never really cared what others thought of her personally, but when they thought something bad about her as a professional, that was what irritated her the most. And she always felt that Bob knew that. She had complained about him to Russell, but it was only her word against the best camera guy they had. She would have taken it even further except she felt it wasn't worth all the trouble. Unfortunately, that's how a lot of women felt.

"Well, hello there, beautiful." Bob set up his camera on its tripod.

"Hello, Bob." She had to be good she told herself.

"I'm sorry, Rachel." Keith leaned in and whispered to her. "He was the only one available. But don't worry I'll be in the van if you need me."

"I'll be fine." Rachel had no expression on her face either way. She was playing it tough. Keith smiled and crossed the street to the news van.

"So, you and Sliverberg broke up?" Bob picked up a small piece of white cardboard and handed it to Rachel.

"Yes." Rachel tried not to look uncomfortable as Bob began to circle her, leering at him, to make his way back to the camera. Doing so in a way he knew would rustle her feathers.

"Do you have to do this?" she said referring to the white piece of cardboard.

"I have to white balance the camera, Honey." He smiled.

"You know you don't have it…"

"Don't tell me what I have to do and do not have to do." He looked into the lens. "Ok. Hold it in front of you." Rachel did what she was told with much direst. "Now lower." Again, Rachel did what she told. "So, find out sleeping with the head-guy gets you nowhere, huh? I mean, I know why he was dating you, but..."

"Are you done?"

"Just about, Sweetie."

Bob lifted his head from behind the camera and walked over to Rachel's left to hand her the microphone. He was so close to her he was almost brushing up against her. Rachel filched, and when it looked as if he would try to attach it to her lapel himself, Rachel snatched it from him and clipped it on her blouse. Rachel was really holding it in by now, when Bob did the unthinkable. The unthinkable if anyone knew the state she was in. It was like he felt he could do anything now, because he knew Rachel wouldn't or couldn't get him in trouble. He leaned into her, whispering something in her ear. Something so soft he knew it wouldn't be heard by Rachel's microphone. A comment so vulgar, so, elicit, one wouldn't even think of putting it in print. Rachel's brown eyes blazed with anger and intensity. Bob lifted his head back with a smile and blew air into Rachel's ear. And as an added nail in his coffin he slapped her on the ass.

And then it happened. It was just a national reaction at first. All that pent up hostility, but then it turned into more. Rachel couldn't take it anymore and all her aggression and anxiety, from the last couple of weeks, came out with a hard punch thrust right across Bob's jaw. All that was heard in the van was a loud thud, as Rachel took out her aggressions on "poor defenseless" Bob. (Spelled backwards is Bob)

* * *

**LOCAL CBS NEWS OFFICES**

"That's it, Rachel!" Rachel's boss screamed at her, as she sat embarrassed, in his office.

"Russell…" Rachel adjusted the ice pack on her hand,as she tried to interrupt Russell with no avail

"I don't want to hear it, Rachel! This is it! I've had it with you! What were you thinking..."

"He went too far this time, Russ!"

"You went too far! Bob will be out for weeks. What am I support to do in the meantime, huh? Not to mention the equipment you broke, the dead air we had when David threw it out to you. The embarrassment you've brought the office, to _CBS news_!" Russell started to pace the office.

"It wasn't that bad..."

Russell stopped pacing and looked at Rachel. "They needed three people to pry you off him!"

"Russell, I don't think I embarrassed the network - who will know about it..."

"Rachel, it went _live _on the five o'clock news! You don't think this will be all over the eleven O'clock tonight_? Hell_, if it turns out to the slow news day I think it will be it'll be national by tomorrow. No, No you're not going to talk yourself out of this one. I have no choice, Rachel" He looked her dead in the eye." Rachel tried to interrupt him, but couldn't "NO, no. You're fired Rachel!"

* * *

Rachel stood in front of her cubicle with a large cardboard box full of her belongings. She had changed into her jeans, still in the drawer from Monday, and thrown her suit into the box. She then picked up a picture of her mother from her desk and placed it in the box. It was dark except for a few lights illuminating off a few of the other desks. The room was empty except for Rachel and Mabel who stood next to her.

"Are you sure you don't want to come to the party?" She pointed to her left and the light noise coming from the hall.

"No, I don't feel like celebrating right now." Rachel leaned over the edge of the cubicle and fumbled around her desk for something as Mabel spoke.

"I know it's a good-bye party for Ralph, but I'm sure we could...

"No, Mabel, thank you. I just… I just want to go home, thank you."

"Alright." She smiled and walked away.

Rachel found the stapler she was looking for and threw it in her box.

Rachel looked around at her office. She was going to miss it. Not only that but she felt sad and embarrassed about the day's events. She thought about them for a moment and groaned with the thought. She shook her head and buried her hands in her face, before leaning her arms and hands against the edge of her cubicle.

As Rachel was doing this, her father entered the newsroom. He looked in the direction of the noise from the party and then at the empty newsroom. He spotted Rachel, he wasn't sure it was her, but it looked like it was. He took off his coat and slung it over his arm.

"Hi?" Jerry titled his head to the side to get Rachel's attention.

Rachel looked up and caught site of Jerry. There was a short pause. He sure had perfect timing – the end of a perfect day, she thought sarcastically. "Hi?" There was another short pause. "What are you doing here?" her voice wasn't as harsh as before.

"I just want to talk, _that's all_." He put his hands up in a defensive motion.

"You sure don't take a hint, do you?"

"All I want is the change to talk to you. You can at least give me that." Rachel turned her head and wiped some tears that began to fall on her cheeks. "Are you alright?" Jerry took a step closer.

"I'm fine." She turned her head and wiped the edge of her nose. She picked up her box and tried to walk away.

Jerry blocked her. "I know I haven't been there in the past and you have every reason to hate me. I'd _hate me_." There was a pause while Jerry watched Rachel look like she was grappling with something.

"You left."

"I know…"

"How was that supposed to make me feel? Never a card or a phone call!"

"I know, but… Look, things are different' now, if you'd just let me explain…"

"Different? How? How is today different from ten years ago."

"I'd like to think we're both different people now. I know I am... "

"Were both different people? I'm your daughter not your girlfriend!"

"I'm sorry! I'm not good at this! What I'm trying to say is… I didn't know at the time how to be a father... I thought I couldn't." Jerry paused, as a dreadful thought crossed his mind. "I always loved you. You have to believe that. But I was young. I was scared. I wasn't ready to be father. But I am now. I'm not asking for much. Just the chance to get to know you, for you to get to know me..."

Rachel walked back towards the cubical and rested the edge of the box on its edge. "Part of me really wants that." Jerry smiled. "But I still hear the same question in my head. _What makes it different this time?_' She looked at Jerry. "What happens after I get to know you, after I became attached and you leave again…"

"I won't."

"And I'm supposed to take your word for that."

"Yes."

"And I'm supposed to trust the man who _Michael Jackson_ tried to chock on national television. The man who…"

"_Hey_, there's more to me then that!"

"You could have fooled me!" Rachel grabbed her box off the edge of her cubicle with both her hands. "What about the man who left his fourteen-year old daughter and never looked back. Is that not you either?"

"Ok. I did that! I'm not _denying_ that... But can't we put the past behind us and start over? _All_ I'm asking for is a chance. _I'm ready_ to be a father now..."

"Well, that great! That's all _fine _and _dandy_. But things are different with me too. And I'm just _sick_ and _tired_ of giving everyone in my life second changes, and have them all throw me to the wayside." Rachel paused for a moment to regain her control." And I'm very happy for you that _I fit_ into your little life now. But you don't fit into mine. Because, the truth is from past experience and past knowledge...I just don't _trust_ you. And until _someone_ shows me otherwise I don't see any point in continuing this conversation." Rachel began to walk past Jerry and paused. "You may be ready to have me as a daughter, but I'm not ready to have you as a father." She looked down and began to walk away. "So, good-bye. And a… best of luck to ya." And Rachel left the newsroom; leaving Jerry alone in the darkness and lights.

Rachel walked into the elevator as she had done every night, only this time she wouldn't return. She walked in carefully and watched the numbers slowly light up in descending order. She spread her fingers through her long dark hair and then held on to her box for dear life, her face expressionless unless one looked closer. If one looked closer they could see she was upset. She was holding so much in her body was in shock. And slowly but surely she started to cry. By the time she reached the lower level she had once again, like usual, held it back in. She walked past the security guard and out the door in a daze, unaware of the people who walked around her.

Across town, Corky sat at her desk in her large and spacious New York City office. Her legs were crossed over the edge of her desk, as she stared out the window looking deep in thought. She shifted her head to the left, looking over the Manhattan skyline, but although her eyes peered towards the picturesque images she did not see them. Her mind was someplace else. She took in a deep breath and began to tap her manicured nails against the glass of the topside of her desk.

Corky Sherwood seemed to be in the big time. She had one of many large offices at ABC news deep in the heart of mid-town. She had never seen an office as big as her new one. Corky had figured it was three times the size of her previous office at FYI. Even at FYI she had a window, even when she moved to the eighteenth floor for the last four years of the show, and compared to her new window they couldn't compare. The window in her new office wrapped all the way around the office and with one touch of a button she could make it disappear with blinders. If only everything in life were that easy. Corky had only been there a month, and still she hadn't gotten used to it. But still, that was not what was racking her mind

At the same time, Rachel walked down the cold nearly light street. It was only six-thirty and being June in the city it still looked like day was upon the world. People walked past her in droves and she felt more alone then if she the streets were empty. She spotted her local hangout, Morty's, and decided to go in just one last time. She walked through the poorly lit brown musty bar into a small leather bound booth at the back. She set her box next to her and ordered a soda. Rachel didn't drink, but since all her friends and collogues did it was the usual place they all hung out after work.

She sat in silence for a moment, one hand on her box of belongings and the other limp beside her. Then like clockwork, whenever she was alone, or even with a group of friends, the waiter brought over a drink sent by a young or older man sitting at the bar, or another booth, or even a table in the center of the room. This time it came from a tall man at the other end of the bar. Usually, Rachel would give the drink to a friend or send it back, but she stopped for a moment. She looked at the drink. What was the big deal she thought? One has to try everything at least once. She hated how scared she was feeling lately, why not take a chance. And so she picked up the pink drink, feeling like it was happening in slow motion, having no idea what the drink was, and within several minutes had finished the entire contents. Soon Rachel discovered why it was people drank after work.

* * *

**_LATER ON: At the Metropolitan Museum of Art_**

_(In front of the painting:(Jackson Pollack) Autumn Rhythm 1950_

Rachel sat on small bench in the center of one the permeate galleries at the Metropolitan Museum of art. It was her favorite place to go to reflect, and so forth, when she was upset. She looked up at the Jackson Pollack painting as if she was engrossed only in the painting and nothing else around it. Not that it mattered because at nearly closing time the gallery was nearly empty.

"Rachel?" Miles sweet voice called her, as he stood above her looking concerned.

"Miles?" She looked up at him.

"Can I sit?'

"Of course," she said softly.

Miles sat down next to her. "I thought you might be here." He looked towards the painting with Rachel. "I heard what happened." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah, I 'm sure everyone knows by now."

"Are you alright, Rachel?"

"I'll be fine," her voice was tired and grainy.

"I know you, Rachel. You only come here when you're really upset. You can tell me?"

"You know I always thought I was like a Jackson Pollack painting?"

"What?"

"I said I thought my life would be a like a Jackson Pollack painting." She didn't look at him, just at the painting.

"I heard that, but how?"

"When Jackson Pollock painted he just threw the paint on to the canvass, but he didn't just throw it randomly. He surveyed the area and then when he found the perfect spot he splattered the paint, but still no matter how much he thought about it and found the perfect spot, it would still be random. He knew up to a certain point what would happen, but after that it was random. Precise randomness. I always thought if I knew what I wanted to do. If I just threw myself on to the world, it would all happen. I thought I'd be art. I'm starting to think I was wrong."

"You're not wrong, Rachel..."

"I think I am."

"Rach. You're a talented, smart girl. You just need to maybe slow things down... " Miles was looking for something to say without offending her. "You know what? They're almost closing. Let's get out of here. '

"Alright."

"Come on." Miles motioned with his body and began to get up. "I'll take you home."

"I can't," Rachel whispered and pulled Miles back down on the bench.

"Why?"

"Oh, nothing." She laughed. "Just a small problem. I don't think I can walk."

"What!" Rachel pulled on Miles tie and pulled him closer to her.

"There's a small chance… Well… That I'm drunk," she whispered, blowing the smell of alcohol in Miles' face.

Miles flinched. "Rachel!" He was agog. "How could this happen! You don't drink! You don't!"

"Ok, you're, right," she laughed. "I must not be drunk then." Rachel began to have the giggles and fall towards Miles, as he looked around to see if anyone could see them.

Miles was in panic mode. "_Why_ were you drinking, Rachel?"

"Ok, if we could just focus on one problem at a time. Twenty-five years of sobriety _out_ the window a bit later. _Now_. Finding the ability to use my lower limbs. "

"Ok, ok." He grabbed Rachel by the arms and propped her up. "Lean against me and I'll help you out of here." He pulled Rachel up onto her two feet and coaxed her along until she was sturdy enough to walk out of the museum without much attention - Miles afraid at every turn that a security guard would stop them.

When they reached the street Miles hailed a cab and helped Rachel and himself into it.

"Sixth and Minetta," Miles told the driver.

Rachel lowered her head onto Miles shoulder. "Wow, that's where I live."

"Yes, I know."

"You know my father came to see me today?"

"Your father!"

"Yeah. He just showed up."

"He just showed up, out of nowhere. Where has he been for the last ten years? Wait? Is that what this is all about?"

"He's been trying to contact me for the last three weeks. He sent flowers. Can you believe that? Why do men think _begonias_ can solve the world's ills?" She snuggled into Miles shoulder.

"That's _what's_ been _bothering _you lately? Oh, Rachel, why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought I could handle it myself. I just..." Rachel stopped in mid-sentence and looked like she wasn't going to even finish her thought.

"Rachel, what happened?"

"I told him I didn't trust him."

"You have every reason to..."

"I wish I did, Miles. I wish I trusted him."

"Well, maybe you should see what he has to say? You always said you were curious about him. I mean he did come to see you."

* * *

**RACHEL'S APARTMENT**

Miles helped Rachel to her apartment and helped her into bed.

"Miles?" Rachel asked, as Miles put the covers over her.

"Yes."

"You always complain about your parents, but you still love them, right?"

"Yes, of course I do."

"Have they ever let you down?"

"Sure, but not on purpose…"

"I'm always scared, Miles? Do you realize that?" She pulled up the covers and leaned on her side.

"What? You're one of the bravest people I know. Now stop talking and go to bed." Miles began to leave.

Rachel grabbed his hand and pulled him closer. "Don't leave, Miles…" He looked into her eyes she looked frightened.

"Ok, I'll stay."

"I was so afraid you were going to leave..." She hugged her pillow.

"I won't leave you..." Miles leaned in and whispered to Rachel.

She looked up at him. "Just like he did…"

"No. Rachel. I love you. I won't leave."

"That's what you say now. But you will. That's why I have to break up with you, Miles." Her vocal levels were mismatched.

"What?" This was the first time Miles had heard such a thing from Rachel. It was like she was so drunk she was confusing time frames. Like her own version of time travel. The Rachel of a two month ago had somehow leaped into her body. "What do you mean, that's why you have to break up with me?" Rachel started to close her eyes, but Miles was determined to wake her. "You said it was because I spent too much time at work? Rachel? Rachel?" He grabbed her by her arms to rouse her. "Because, you never saw me?" Miles stopped because it looked like she was waking up. Miles still held her by her arms. "So, I assumed you meant you didn't love me…"

Rachel put her finger to Miles lips. "Miles, of course I love you…" She leaned back. "I think I'll always love you." She looked at him and started to fall asleep.

"Rachel! Rachel! When you say you're always love me did you mean always love me in a brother and sister type way or...Rachel? Rachel?"

"I still do," she whispered. Miles again tried to wake her, but with no avail - she was suction cupped to her pillow. Miles sat down in the chair across from Rachel's bed not knowing what to make of it all.


	4. CHAPTER FOUR: On The Green

**Chapter Four: **On the **Green**, the **Golden** **Brown**, and the **Sliverberg**

* * *

_BOTH: Good lovin' ain't easy  
Good lovin' ain't easy  
Good lovin' ain't easy to come by_

_HIM: Oh, darlin', that's the kind you offer me  
It's just the love to be found  
HER: 'Cause we're workin' on a buildin' nobody can tear down  
BOTH: Look what we've got, ho-ho-ho-honey  
BOTH: Good lovin' ain't easy  
_

**~ Good Loving Ain't Easy ~ Marvin & Tammi**

* * *

**THE NEXT DAY**

Murphy sat in the corner diner waiting for Jerry. It was Saturday, and unlike usual Jerry had left early that morning for a meeting. What the meeting was about Murphy had no idea, it just didn't come up. Jerry told her that he would be finished by eleven and asked her to meet him for breakfast. Avery was in the park playing with Eldin and Murphy told them she would join them later.

Murphy looked towards the door and noticed Jerry making his way past the tables and other patrons. Murphy noticed him and the two made eye contact with a smile to signal the two had seen each other.

"Hey, there." Jerry leaned in and kissed Murphy lightly on the lips; his eyes aglow. He tossed his newspaper onto the table and plopped himself down in the booth. "Sorry, I'm late." Jerry jetted out his arms and then ran his fingers through his hair. "It took me longer to get up here then I thought. Did you order?"

"No, I was waiting for you."

Jerry opened up the menu and purposed it. "Have any trouble finding the place? You didn't end up in _New Jersey_ did you?"

Murphy made a face while Jerry smiled into his menu.

"You know it's been a week? _I think_ you can let up on it?" Jerry tossed the menu to the side and smirked at Murphy.

"No completes from me. I had a very nice. Relaxing. _Quiet _lunch, alone..." He teased her.

Murphy looked primed to give an even more equal response when the waitress came to take their order. "O_rder, _Jerry!"

"What?! NO! Come on! I've been good." Sometimes, it was more painful to Jerry that Murphy didn't send a barb back to him when she knew he wanted one.

"Jerry! _Order,_" Murphy smirked.

Unhappy that his barb had not been returned Jerry leaned back in his seat and turned towards the direction of the waitress, leaning his right arm on the edge of the booth. A waitress approached them.

"What's your name, honey?" Jerry leaned in to look at her nametag. "Joyce?" the girl nodded. "Ok Joyce. I want coffee. Black. No sugar, no milk, no _nothing._ And none of that caffeine-free crap. I want caffeine and _lots of it_. And don't even ask me if I want refills; just keep 'um coming. And… a cheese and onion omelet, rye toast. And I want it _hot_." He leaned back towards Murphy giving her the cue to order.

"Hamburger and fries," she said, raising her eyebrows, even thought she had seen it many times before, to Jerry's unusual way of ordering.

The waitress took the menus and left Jerry and Murphy alone.

Once she was gone Jerry took Murphy's hands across the table and kissed them. "So, what do you want to do tonight?"

"Tonight?"

"It's Saturday night? It's the one night we have to ourselves."

"Oh, well, I thought we would do what we always do, go out to eat. Why? Do you have a certain place in mind? Ah...There's a new play on sixth and 85th that looks good."

"What? That dump! No, no." Jerry shook his head. "I was thinking we could go someplace special this time…"

"Special?"

"Yeah, special. _Different_."

"Ok? Like where?"

"How about... Tavern on the Green?"

"Tavern on the Green?"

"Yeah, it's nice; it's near the park..."

"And every tourist this side of the _Hudson_ goes there! Why don't we do what we always do, find some out of the way little bistro in… Soho…"

"I know, we always do that! I just thought we could do something spec..." Jerry let go of Murphy's hand and leaded back into the booth.

"Yeah, special you said that. What's going on, Gold?"

"What? I want to take my girl out to a classy joint, treat her to a night on the town…" Jerry started to stammer a bit. "I just thought that since well…"

"_Spit_ it out, Gold!"

"Alright, Alright. If you look at it today. If you count. We've been together for _a… two months_ that's sort of a record for us? _Continuously,_ that is."

"You mean like an _anniversary_?"

"_Yeah_, one of those," he tossed the line to her as if it didn't mean anything, but of course it did.

"Wow, Gold, we've never had one of those before." Murphy was a bit surprised by the situation. Jerry adjusted himself in his seat and looked. "In fact, I can't remember the last time I had one of those with anyone."

"Yeah, I know. It was strange. I was looking over my calendar, doing something for work, and it _hit me_. I mean there it was in _black and white_. Two_ months._ Eight weeks in a row. I was in shock. I kept meaning to bring it up, this week. Ya know, but _I wasn't sure_ that it was even worth mentioning. I mean it is only_ two month_, but for us that's a big deal, right? Longevity isn't our strong point." He paused for a moment, a bit uncomfortable. "So... I made us reservations. But if you don't want to go, we don't have to?"

"You made reservations, already? Why didn't you say so?" Murphy got a girlish and surprised look on her face.

"But… if you don't want to go."

The waitress came over and set Jerry's coffee and Murphy's water on the table.

"No I want - I mean. It's just not my kind of place." She paused to find better words. "It's gaudy and big and..." Jerry took a sip of his coffee. It was too hot and he set it down. Murphy looked at him. "But no, this is the new me." Murphy took a breath and made a gesture like she was shrugging if off. "You want to take me out for our… _Anni-whatever_. So be it. I mean it's in the park, there's a great view. With highly overpriced meals and shrubbery shaped like circus animals." Murphy tried to be pleased with her list, but it was hard. "How bad could it be?" Murphy leaned her elbows and hands on the table. "But it was your idea so it's really up to you?" Jerry looked at Murphy who had gone from convincingly realistic to uncomfortable unsubtle, as each item she listed about the restaurant made her dislike the idea more and more.

Jerry could always see through her. "The reservations are for _eight_." He smiled at her and picked up his coffee cup, as he readied it for his mouth. "And wear something nice. Preferably _tight_. And without any underwear. You know… it's a classy joint." He smirked in his king of trash TV tone - anything to get a rise out of her. If Murphy had been closer she would have hit him on the back of the head.

* * *

**RACHEL'S APARTMENT**

Rachel lifted her head off the pillow in a groggy blur. To her surprise her head felt like it had been hit upside the head with a lead pipe, a feeling she didn't like and soon wanted to forget. Rachel looked at the clock in the Cro-Magnon aura of her pre-shower, pre coffee, afternoon. Yes, it was the afternoon, but it felt like three a.m. She made her way to the kitchen after many unsuccessful tries and to her surprise found Miles nursing a cup of coffee at her kitchen table. She was surprised to see him as she racked her mind of the past night. She could hardly remember a thing.

"Miles?"

"You're awake."

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to make sure you were ok? You asked me to stay last night?"

"I did?" Rachel started to walk to the table when she stopped. "Miles, what have you done to my Kitchen - its spinning."

Miles helped her to the chair and got her a cup of coffee. "Don't you remember _anything _about last night?"

"No," she said, as she took a tentative sip of her hot drink. "I remember being at Morty's and then...did I go to the MOMA?"

"Yes, that's where I found you and took you home…"

"You took me home?"

"I sleep in a chair the _whole _night. You asked me not to leave." Miles was again trying to fish for some reinforcement of Rachel's words from the night before. Had they been true, some drunken hallucination, or perhaps a little bit of both.

"I did?" Rachel racked her brain for the thoughts she could not retrieve.

"Rachel, is there _anything_ you remember about last night?" Rachel thought for a moment. "What you did? Maybe what you said?"

"No, I don't. I guess I went a little overboard?"

"I little _overboard_!? Rachel, you went from having never touched a drink to..."

"Ok, I became a lush, _this has been established_!" Rachel took her hand to her head, as her sudden burst of energy was not ready for the rest of her body. "But don't fret, that's the _last time_ I'll be doing that." Miles looked at his watch and Rachel carefully sat herself down across from Miles.

"And you can't remember a _thing_ about last night? Like something you've been trying to tell me for a long time?"

"No, Miles. Stop _rubbing_ it in. I can't remember! You did a good think. Thank you!" Rachel was irritated and Miles was confused. Mostly Miles was sad that perhaps Rachel had not meant a word of what she had said the night before.

"I really need to get to work. I'll see you, tonight. I just wanted to make sure you're alright." He sat up and went for the for the door.

Rachel nodded her head and then looked up at Miles. "Tonight, what's tonight?"

"Dinner with Corky remember?"

"Oh, no." Rachel tried to get up, but her splitting headache sent her back down. "Not tonight, Miles, I don't want to see anyone tonight..."

"But you told _Corky_ you would. She's been looking forward to this all week. It would _really mean_ a lot to her."

"Any night, but tonight Miles. I'm not up to it."

"You can't do this to me, Rachel..."

"I'm not going." Rachel buried her head on the table like a child.

"I'm picking you up at seven. So be ready."

"But dinner with Corky…"

"You really have to give her a chance. Please? Do it for me?" Rachel thought for a moment while Miles gave Rachel his puppy dog look.

"I guess... It can't be that bad, it will get me a chance to get out. At least I won't be the only one being fixed up. I'd hate it if someone did that to me. Left me hanging like that. Ahh, fixed up! I hate that, even the word sounds like I'm in need of repair."

"Yeah, that would be terrible…" Miles looked like he was hiding something and started for the door. "Oh, Rachel?" He turned around

"Yes," she said.

He looked at her as his nerve left him. "We're having dinner at Tavern on the Green so dress nice."

"Tavern on the green? That tourist trap?"

"Corky's idea."

"What time should I be ready again?"

"Be ready by seven, dinner's at eight." Miles went for the door and stopped like he wanted to say something, but edited himself. He shrugged it off and went on.

* * *

**INTO THE WOODS...**

Miles stood in the lobby of Tavern on the Green, the famous Central Park restaurant surrounded by what at night looked like a deep forest out of a fairy tale, or a Stephen Sondiem musical. And it felt like "every day a little death", as Miles waited for Rachel to arrive. She had made him leave without her, promising she would show up, he only prayed she would. He wasn't sure she would, but at eight o'clock sharp Rachel walked uncomfortably through the doors. She wore a lovely simple strapless black dress, with her hair pulled back. A very simple outfit except for the elaborate black heels she wore on her feet. Like most women in Manhattan with a little bit, or no money at all, she had a fetish for a good, interesting shoe. Miles walked away from his date and meet Rachel at the door.

"You're here?" he whispered to her.

"Of course," she whispered back. "So it that one yours?" She motioned her head towards Miles date.

"What?" He looked behind him.

"Your date?" Rachel looked her over. "Looks like Corky did a good job. Pretty. Not too tall. Have you seen mine yet? Have you talked to him?" Rachel looked around.

"Rachel, about that.."

"When Corky called this afternoon and asked me if I minded dating men _my own age_ I should have gotten _scared_ then? I could end up with some skateboarder who delivers her coffee and thinks _Rancid_ is _jammin'_." Rachel leaned in closer. "I have an idea. We should make signals. You know, if we really can't stand our dates. Some sort of hand gesture or noise. And then one of us can excuses ourselves and go call the other's cell phone and..:"

"Rachel, I have to tell you something..."

"What?"

"Well. My date. Isn't a blind date?"

"You've met her before? How strange? Did Corky know that?"

"No. Corky didn't fix us up. I asked her myself."

"Miles?!"

"I know…"

"The only reason I agreed to this thing was because I thought we were both going to have to be fixed up. I agreed to _equal humiliation_ - that was the deal! If I'm not enjoying myself either can you!"

"We've been out with her a few times. She _asked me_ what I was doing _tonight_. I didn't _want to_ lie."

"Oh…" Rachel took a gulp and then regained her hysteria. "Well, I'm out of her here…" She turned for the door just as Corky and her boyfriend Lester entered the restaurant, causing Rachel to run right into Corky.

"Oh _you're_ all _here_!" Corky looked ecstatic.

Lester rested his hands on Corky's shoulders and smiled, his white teeth and blue eyes gleamed. Lester was a handsome man with dusty blonde hair that fell over his forehead. Corky introduced Lester to Rachel, while Lester and Miles made the usual I already know you "hellos". After it all they walked towards the hostess, along with Rachel, who had no choose but to follow, because she was caught.

Miles looked around for his date. "Vivian, there you are," he said, as his lovely brunette date walked down the stairs from the bar area and over towards Miles.

"Vivian Perez I'd like you to me…"

"Les?" Vivian noticed Lester right off the bat.

"Viv?"

"You two know each other?" Miles looked surprised and his voice raised an octave.

"Viv and I went to college together." Lester looked agog. "Isn't that uncanny, Corky?" He hit her arm.

"Wow! That is!" Corky's eyes lit up and she clasped her hands together.

"Yeah, really." Rachel felt that she had to include herself into the conversation, but her heart really wasn't in it. She even nodded her head up and down awkwardly.

"We even dated for a few years."

"A few years?" Miles stated a bit insecurely.

"You both dated?" Corky put on a large fake smile.

"WOW! Lester Brennon! After all these years..." She shook her head.

"Your tables ready. Please follow me," The hostess approached the group.

"We're not all here are we? What about Rachel's date? Is he not coming?" Miles looked around, excited about the prospect.

"Really, I'm fine. In fact, I don't need a date. I should go…"

"No, he's coming." Corky grabbed Rachel's arm, as she started to bolt. "Joseph called me on our way over. He's going to be a little late." Corky took Rachel's arm, as the group followed the hostess through the mirrored hallway with glittering chandeliers. "You're going to love, Joseph." Corky leaned into Rachel and linked her arm with hers, as if they had been best friends for years. "He's already sorry he's going to be late. See, he's a Rabbi and..."

"A Rabbi!?" Rachel's eyes bugged out and she gave Miles a dirty look.

"Sure! You know, I didn't know they could date?"

Rachel looked unnerved, as thoughts of her eighty-year-old Rabbi from her youth echoed through her head. "A rabbi? Did you hear, Miles - she got me a date with a _Rabbi_?" Miles passed by Rachel who she said the words with no enthusiasm what-so-ever.

"Yeah, I heard." Miles lowered his head, as he passed, trying not to laugh.

Corky smiled. "I wanted to make sure he was _Jewish_ and you never can tell lately."

"You know, Corky, just because I'm Jewish… that doesn't mean I only date Jewish men, in fact Miles' was one of the only Jewish men I've ever dated. Not that I meant it that way. I mean it would be nice, it's just not preferred. You know…"

"Me too." Corky agreed. "Although, Miles and I never really _officially _dated...well… I suppose most of our marriage was a series of dates." She pounded her last thought for a moment.

"I just mean, I'm not the most religious person. I don't think I'd feel _comfortable_ going on a date with a Rabbi..."

"But I really think you too would be _perfect_ for each other."

The group reached their table, a round table at the center of the room. Rachel watched as the two men pulled out their date's chairs for them. It was very sweet and left Rachel with a melancholy look on her face, as she sat down alone. Rachel sat in a chair towards the door while Corky sat down next to Lester, leaving an empty seat between her and Rachel. Next to Lester sat Vivian and then next to her Miles.

The group decided to order a bottle of Merlot while they perused their menus. Corky looked up towards the door a few times to keep an eye out for Rachel's date. The group had been there for only ten minutes when one of Corky's peers towards the door turned successful. Joseph Greenberg walked up behind Rachel. He was tall, with dark hair and a rugged boyish look.

"Rabbi Joseph," Corky smiled at him.

"Please, Corky, call me Joe," he said sweetly

"Rabbi Joe?" Miles looked at him in shock.

"Miles, hello. How have you been?" He was equally surprised to see Miles.

"You two now each other?" Lester chimed in.

"Yes. Rabbi Joe is the Rabbi at my Temple." Miles didn't look too happy about the idea. Under his breath he murmured an aside for Corky's benefit, "Corky got Rachel a date with my Rabbi. My Rabbi?" His voice became louder. "Wow. How did you two run into each other? How could that happen? How funny?" Not only did Miles hate the fact that Corky had gotten Rachel a date with his Rabbi, but that she got her a date with someone as good-looking as Joe.

"Oh, I remembered him from that time I went with you for PESCA. And then we ran into each other last week."

"Pesce. Pesce," Miles grunted. Joseph tried not to laugh.

"Corky, I didn't know you were Jewish?" Vivian asked.

"Oh, I'm not. I just went with Miles once while we were married."

"You two were married!" Vivian looked at Miles in surprise.

Miles sunk down in his chair and gurgled, "Oh god." Miles looked up at the heavens, his voice in his gurgle mode again. He then proceeded to try and laugh it off.

"Hi!" Rachel shook her hand out towards Joe with a big smile on her face. "I think I'm you date?" She turned to Corky. "He is my date, right?" It looked like all of Rachel's ideas about dating a Rabbi had gone away when she saw how good-looking he was.

"I'm so sorry I'm late. I had some business to attend to. It couldn't be avoided." He took hold of Rachel's hand as they looked into each other's eyes.

All Rachel could think about was how he didn't look like any Rabbi's she had seen before. Perhaps there was a whole section of the male population she had ignored. Joe looked completely enamored by Rachel's beauty and Rachel by his. There was one thing that made Rachel go to pieces and that was a good-looking man, especially one who seemed to like paying her attention. Joe looked just a few years older than Rachel. He had deep blue eyes and dark hair. If you looked up tall dark and handsome in the dictionary one would think that Joe's picture would be the first entry.

"I'm surprised you two didn't meet before!" Corky chimed in and then looked at Miles. "Didn't you ever take Rachel with you when you two dated?

"You and Rachel use to date!?" Vivian sent dagger eyes in Miles direction.

"Ugg." Miles slid further down in his chair. Vivian didn't look happy and Miles could tell. He then proceeded to laugh it off and picked up his menu, sitting up straight. "Why don't we order?" Miles buried his face in the menu. "Oh, look they have lobster. Ohh, I think I'll get that. Corky, Corky… how about you?" He tried to change the subject quickly.

"Well… I don't know it all looks good."

By this time Joe had sat down and began perusing his menu. Rachel stared at Joe in a way that angered Miles, as he sulked behind his menu. The green monster seemed to be rearing its ugly head.

Miles watched as Rachel hung on Joe's every word, the same way she used to behave when they dated. He proceeded to do so all through dinner, making Vivian feel very ignored. Intern this caused Vivian to spend more time catching up with Lester then talking to Miles. Not that Miles even noticed the least bit because his thoughts were on another couple: Rachel & Joe. Corky just reveled in her matchmaking skills.

"So, Joe." Rachel turned to Joe and smiled. "Do you lead services over the entire congregation? It must be a lot to do?" She didn't know what to ask. "Are you called on a lot by your members?"

"While I'm just the Assistant Rabbi so I don't lead services too much. But I am called on a lot by the members for counseling, which I love. Being able to give advice in a spiritual ways, as well as trade knowledge. But I do lead the Friday night services."

"Rachel, hasn't been to a Friday night services in years…" Miles chimed in with a gurgle and a snort.

"_Miles, _that's not true." She looked at Miles. "That's not true…" She looked at Joe.

"You're always working! You came with me _once_!"

"I've had to work on Fridays and so worth that's true, but _I really want_ to try and get back into to going."

"She didn't fast on Yom Kippur this year either…" Miles said loudly and pointedly.

"Miles, what are your talking about?" She looked over at Joe. "Of course I did…" Rachel tried to quiet Miles from revealing her secrets.

"It's all right, Rachel. I'm not offended. I think religion is a very private thing. People should be free to express themselves in different ways. If anything it's _a spiritual thing_ we can come back to anytime, but it is always within us."

"Oh, I so agree." Rachel seemed captivated by Joe.

"Oh, brother..." Miles had failed.

"How long did you and Miles date?" Vivian entered the conversation with much curiosity, as well as hurt, from the fact that Miles hadn't told her she would be having dinner with two of his axes.

"Not, that long..." Miles tried to avoid it. "Where's that waiter with our drinks?" Miles looked around for a waiter.

Rachel noticed Miles was trying to avoid the conversation. "We dated for almost a year wasn't it? Miles? I'm surprised he didn't mention it?" Rachel tried to give it back to Miles.

"A year!?" Vivian was not happy.

"It didn't seem that long," Miles tried to protest.

"Maybe that's because you're not counting the month we lived together." Miles was frozen while Vivian huffed.

"You told me you only lived with one woman, Miles."

Rachel smirked. "I guess it slipped his mind considering how _small_ he felt the time was we spent together. Well, I guess compared to your _many other_ relationships it seemed small!" Rachel looked over at Vivian. "I'd watch out for this one, Viv, his relationships are shorter than he is!" Rachel leaned forward. "Unless you count his relationship with his work, that's an ongoing love affair. Kind of like the Internet and Forty-second street whores, it's cheap, it's easy and its always there when you need it with no _consequences_ afterwards."

"I thought there were no more hookers at Forty-second street since Disney moved in." Corky asked, completely confused by Miles and Rachel sudden bust of anger. In fact, the whole table was embarrassed by the entire passing of events.

"Disney. Prostitutes. Same thing," Rachel answered, while still looking in Miles direction.

"Joe was engaged three times!" Miles couldn't believe what he had just said. It just came out. Rachel eyes shoot out and so did Miles' and Joe's. "I mean. I'm sorry. I. I…" he stammered.

"It's ok, Miles…" Joe looked like he was trying not to be embarrassed. "Yes, I was engaged three times, but they all unfortunately ended…"

"No, Joe it's alright you don't have to explain." Rachel put her hand on his arm.

Miles threw his napkin on the table. Vivian noticed this.

"No I want to. I'm not ashamed of it." Joe turned to face Rachel. "The first was my high-school sweet-heart, we were too young. The second cheated on me _two days_ before the wedding, and the third, Nancy. I'm afraid was killed in a boating accident off of Martha's Vineyard. She was a championship swimmer." All the women "aww", in sympathy, and Miles slide sideways into his chair, in the agony of having made the situation better for Joe than worse.

The night continued on pretty much the same way until dessert and coffee had been ordered and the table looked like a disheveled mess. Corky clung to Lester's arm full of the wonderful food. Rachel and Joe seemed to be having a very healthy conversation, which only irritated Miles and his date who of course felt neglected. Vivian excused herself to "powder her nose" as Joe's beeper went off. The entire group looked around themselves and their belongings to see if it was theirs.

"It's me." Joe lifted his beeper off his belt loop and looked at the screen, changing his face along with it.

"Is something wrong?" Rachel inquired.

"I'm afraid I'll have to make my early leave."

Miles feigned his sadness while Corky, Rachel, and Lester served up their disappointment to his early departure. Joe stood up and thanked everyone for the lovely evening, especially Corky for inviting him.

"Rachel?" Joe looked over at her "Would you mind walking me to the door?"

"Oh, not at all." Rachel stood up and followed Joe out.

* * *

**MEANWHILE….**

Outside the restaurant, Jerry waited impatiently for Murphy. She was late. He brought his lit cigarette to his lips, as he paced the damp pavement. It was dark and the street lamps in the park, along with the moonlight, made streaks and blurry images in the newly formed puddles on the pavement. Just then a cab came screeching up to the front of the restaurant, breaking the calmness of the puddles in half. Jerry popped his head up as he heard the car stop short. Jerry could see through the side window that it was Murphy and he threw his cigarette to the ground. The door flew open and a disgruntled Murphy half exited the cab.

"You're late!" Jerry speedwalked over to the car.

"You think I don't know that!" Murphy threw a few bills at the cab driver and exited the cab with a loud slam of the door. She flattened out her red dress, as Jerry reached her and the cab drove off.

"Where have you been!? Another _twenty minutes_ and we'd lose the reservation for good!" Murphy and Jerry walked towards the door as they fought.

"Hey, I called you!"

"_Yeah_, about an hour ago telling me you'd be _thirty minutes late_! What? Were you on U.S. Mail time! If this is your way of getting back at me, Brown?"

Murphy stopped at the doorframe of the entrance. She adjusted the strap on her dress that had fallen over her shoulder. "Jerry, if you're _insinuating_ that I was late just because I didn't want to come to this _stupid _restaurant, that's ridiculous!"

"Stupid restaurant?! Oh, yeah, _you're_ not bias!"

"Jerry, you would _not_ _believe_ the last two hours I have had. Eldin was late. Then he got paint _all over_ my new dress, so I had to change...I got my heel stuck in a subway grate because the doorman was _too busy, so I had_ to hail my _own_ cab! Yeah, like helping an old woman with her groceries has _precedence_ over me! Not to mention the fact that I had to sit for twenty minutes in traffic with the cab driver _from hell_. So don't tell me I'm doing this on PURPOSE!"

"Wait a second," Jerry's voice flared up. "What is painter man doing painting in my apartment?"

"He's painting a mural for Avery room!"

"He's what?!"

* * *

**INSIDE….**

Joe walked over to the coat check and handed the woman his ticket.

"Rachel, I really had a wonderful time."

"So did I," she said with a slight surprise in her voice.

"I really like to see you again." The woman handed Joe his coat.

Rachel looked down and then up before she spoke. "I really would too but…"

"Oh, I see. It's ok…"

"No, no. Joe, I like you. I mean I_ really_ like you. The truth is... I'm just getting over a relationship and... Well… I don't think… I'm just not ready to date yet."

"It's Miles, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry about the way he acted back there. He can really be an ass some times."

"It wasn't just that, Rachel. I saw how you reacted to him and Vivian."

"I did? I didn't think. I mean. Joe, I..."

"No. It's ok. I just got over a pretty bad break up myself." Joe took a card out of his pocket and handed it to Rachel. She took it in her hand. "When you're ready? I'd still love to see you again." Joe slipped into his brown leather jacket and left the restaurant.

Rachel savored the sweetness of the moment, as she held onto the card in her palms. She watched him leave, wishing she was ready to see him again, but she knew she wasn't. But the next thing to happen was never what Rachel had expected to happen next -Jerry and Murphy walked into the restaurant.

Rachel noticed Jerry first causing her eyes to bug out if they could have. She quickly turned around, leaning her hand on the edge of the coat check, thinking it would mask her somehow. She took in quick breaths not sure what to do. Then it hit her. Had she seen him with Murphy Brown? Could that be true? She just didn't want to turn around and double check in fear he would see her. "No," she though, "That would be crazy?"

Jerry and Murphy, still continuing their argument, walked over to the hostess stand. Murphy stood apart, miffed, holding her purse on her hip, as Jerry talked with the woman about their table. As this was happening, Rachel kept her back to them at all times. She crept past the stairs to the bar, next to the coat check, and hid behind the presiding wall which led to the bathroom. Rachel was able to peer out from the corner of the wall to see Jerry and Murphy's back, as they were led down the hall to their table.

Murphy led the way, as Jerry motioned her forward with his arm, a loving gesture, for her to walk ahead of him. All Rachel could see was her father with a blonde woman.

Rachel waited a moment, ready to make her great escape when she realized she had left her purse at the table. She had to go back. Rachel took a breath and tentatively made her way through the hallway. She poked her head around the corner of the main room, where her table was, looking for Jerry and his date. There was no sign of them. They must have been taken to another room, but Rachel didn't want to be too careful. She needed to get out of there as fast as she could. When she approached the table Miles could tell she was distressed.

"I think I should be going." Rachel leaned down and took her purse off the edge of her chair.

"Rachel, you don't have to leave," Corky assured her with her happy tones. "We just ordered dessert."

"No, I'm not really feeling well. I think I should get home. But thank you, Corky, for everything. Miles." Rachel turned to Miles. "I'll see you." She noticed Vivian was missing. "Please tell Vivian it was very nice to meet her." She turned to Lester. "Lester."

"Rachel," Lester responded.

Rachel smiled and made her quick, yet paranoid, exit.

"I'm just going to check my messages…" Lester took his phone from his pocket, before excusing himself from the table.

"Did Rachel look upset to you?" Miles looked off and past Corky.

"Well, I think it's obvious," Corky whispered. "She liked Joe, but I think he found her too abrasive."

"She's not always like this all the time. She's been very stressed lately. It comes out when she's stressed. She has a lot on her plate."

"Stress from work?"

"Well, yeah, but I think the real reason…"

"It's ok, Miles, I know."

"know what?"

"Give me a little credit, Miles. I mean I'm in the business too!

"Oh! You mean about Rachel getting fired," Miles whispered the word fired.

Corky rolled her eyes. "Yeah, what else would I be talking about?"

"Well, her father showed up on her doorstep, she hadn't seen him since she was I think fourteen."

"Well, that's great! Why would she be stressed out about a thing like that?!"

"It's more complicated than that. She won't tell me the whole story, but he apparently has a reputation in her family as being a _real jerk_, not to mention the fact that when I say she hasn't seen her father since she was about fourteen. I mean she saw him once when she was fourteen and a few times before that not seen she was about ten and he left town… or when her grandparents got legal custody – she's iffy about the details."

"Oh."

"She feels she can't _trust_ him and I think it's eating her up inside. I hate to see her like this. She's told me in the past she always wanted to meet him, but because of what he did - in the past - she can't..." Miles stopped his thoughts and looked straight ahead.

"Miles? What were you going to say?"

"I think I should go check on her. I should see if she's alright. Do you think I should?" He looked at Corky. "I'm going to take her home. She's had a tough night."

"What about Vivian?" Corky asked as if to say, "You can't just leave."

Miles stood up. "Tell her I'm sorry. She'll understand." Miles patted Corky on the shoulder and in almost a daze walked away, leaving Corky alone at the table.

"Excuse me, Ms. Sherwood?" As soon as Miles was gone Corky heard a male voice next to her. She looked towards her left and looked up at a handsome man in a dark suit and dark hair looking down at her. He had a thin, yet husky build and broad shoulders. Corky smiled at him, as he smiled back with his square jaw. He looked of money. Corky observed his details so distinctly because she felt she recognized him from somewhere, but she couldn't figure out from where. "My name is Victor Champion, I'm sorry to interrupt your dinner, but I just had to come over and introduce myself."

"Victor Champion?" Suddenly, she placed his face by the name. "The media Mo-" She stopped herself.

"Mogul. You can say it. It's alright." He lowered his head in embarrassment. "It's not like I haven't heard it before."

"I mean..."

"It's alright, really... I happen to be on way out, so I can't talk long. But I hear rumors you're not so happy at ABC." He sat down in the empty chair next to Corky.

"Where did you hear a thing like that?" Corky laughed off the comment with her southern politeness.

"It's all right, Ms. Sherwood." He leaned in and whispered, "I am in the business." He then looked up and Corky followed his gaze towards the door. Corky noticed a tall curly haired, buxom blonde, impatiently singling Mr. Champion. He stood up and looked back at Corky. "I have to get going." He took a business card out of his pocket. "I'm starting a new cable station and I'm looking for someone to flagship the channel. And I feel you could be that person."

"I'm flattered, but I'm really fine where I am." Corky was lying through her teeth.

"Well, at least think about it." He handed her his card and Corky took it. "I have a feeling if you hear what I have to offer you may reconsider."

As he walked away Corky thought about why she told the man what she did – that she was happy at ABC. Sure Victor Champion was considered a mogul, but it was in name only. He had some money, but his company was just starting out again, the last cable station he started caused him to go into bankruptcy and Corky didn't want to be a casualty of that. It just didn't make any sense. Corky had a reliable job, which once she became establish in, would lead to better stories. Sure, she was unhappy now, but it would get better. Corky was always taught that a seedling just needed some water and some love and it would sprout big and strong. And her job would be the same way. Her family taught her stability and god were the most important thing in a person's life. Another thing her family always affirmed was the reliable choice is the best choice. Not that Corky always kept to that advice much earlier in her life, then later, but lately Corky didn't feel like taking to many chances. Everything now was so good she didn't want to shake things up. Another thing she was taught, "If it ain't broke don't fix it." This was of course what she was telling herself –not what she believed.

* * *

**OUTSIDE…**

"Rachel!" Miles yelled to Rachel, as he passed through the door to the restaurant, leaving it behind him.

"Miles, what are you doing here?" Rachel cleared the awning of the restaurant

"You looked upset?"

"Miles! What is wrong with you?!"

"With me? What about you! I can't believe the way you acted!"

"I acted? What about you!"

"Me? Me? What about you? Fawning _all_ over him. "You're so smart, Joe you're so funny,"" Miles voice was mocking.

"Miles, I never did that!"

"You did! Yes you did!" Miles voice became agitated.

"Miles, get over it!" Rachel stepped into the car park and looked around for a cab.

"Rachel?" Miles called and ran after her, grabbing her arm in the middle of the driveway.

"Let me take you home."

Rachel pulled her arm away. "I'll take a cab." The two had stopped in the middle of the driveway and a car came honking towards them. Miles and Rachel got out of the way. "What is with you?"

"You just seemed so distracted and hurried when you left I thought you were upset."

"Yeah, Miles, with _you- _for the way you embarrassed me and Joe. And _yourself._ Not to mention your date. "

"You don't have to hide it, Rachel."

"Hide what?! You know if we're going to stand here like this _I have_ to have a cigarette." Rachel pulled her sliver case, with the letters J.A.G on them, from of her purse and took out a cigarette and her lighter.

"Do you have to do that?"

"Yes, I do!" she said, as she lit the cigarette with her sliver lighter. "Now, what is it _I don't_ have to hide? I happen to be an open book, thank you!" She placed the sliver case back in her purse along with the lighter.

"Oh yeah, an open book," he scoffed sarcastically.

"Good-bye, Miles!" She started to go.

"Wait!" Miles stopped her. "I know about Rabbi Joe... Dumping you."

"He didn't _dump_ me, Miles? He was called away." Rachel took a puff on her cigarette.

"Well…"

"In fact, he asked me for another date," she said with confidence.

"Really?"

"Yes!"

"Did you accept?" Miles tried not to show how flustered he was.

"I don't know... he's not my type."

"Oh, come on, he's so your type - smart, well educated..."

Rachel gave Miles a look. "Don't forget good looking." She took a drag off her cigarette.

"…Can get you in to all the swanky _Bar Mitzvahs_ in town," Miles tried to make a joke.

"Very funny, Miles. You should be on Leno." She looked into his eyes while he smiled back at her. "I have to go." Rachel began to walk the wrong way, away from the exit and closer to the woods.

"Rachel!" He yelled back at her. "It's ok. I know!"

"Know what?"

He caught up to her. "I wasn't sure if you meant it, or if I still did, but I always have and the way we both acted tonight _proved it_."

"Miles, what are your talking about?"

He walked closer to her, as she took another puff and held her cigarette away from Miles. "I know...you love me." Miles got that cocky look in his eyes.

"Excuse me?" Rachel sent a few ashes from her cigarette to the ground and scratched her thumb on her fourth finger - something she did when she was out of herself.

"But it's all ok! Because I still love you too." And Miles kissed Rachel.

* * *

**BACK INSIDE**

"How's your food?" Jerry asked Murphy, as they sat eating their meals.

"Does this taste funny? Jer, taste this? Does this taste strange to you?" Murphy began to pile up some food onto her fork.

"Why do people do that? They don't like the way something tastes, they offer it up to someone else to taste it. Like hey, I just ate horseshit - here _partake_ in the mystery."

"Just taste it!" Murphy shoved a fork in Jerry's direction.

Jerry took a bite. "That's fine, Brown, really it tastes fine…." he said after taking a bite.

"Can I try yours?" She pointed to Jerry's plate.

"Sure, but I don't know about this sauce?" Jerry handed Murphy his folk. "I could make better than this. There's not enough seasoning in it." Murphy took a bite and Jerry took his fork back to his plate.

"And what makes you such the expert all of a sudden," Murphy said, as she pushed her food aside.

"BecauseI actually know how to cook the food _I'm digesting_!" Jerry smacked his fork back on his plate.

"So do I!" Murphy shot back.

"I wouldn't call what you cook _food_, Brown. Kind of like calling what you do to Aretha Franklin records _singing._"

"You know you always think you know everything!"

"Well, when it comes to cooking I think I know a little more about it then you. _In fact_, I'd venture to say _a giant heaping portion more_ than you do!"

"If you call what you do _cooking_?" she asked, in her sarcastic tone, blowing off the comment as if there was no way Jerry could counter it.

"Hey! I thought _you liked_ my cooking? I believe you once referred to it as _heavenly!"_ His head titled on his last word.

"Well, there are a lot of things I lie about when were _alone, Jerry_!"

This worsened Jerry's mood. "_Hey_, my mother was half Italian...'

"_Oh,_ that's always your answer when it comes to this. _My ethnic_ _heritage_. I'm sorry, but I wouldn't brag about having _pasta and peas_ as a family heirloom _to pass_ down to _future generations_!"

"Hey! That's a valid Italian dish! And what _delicacy_ have the Irish brought us… _Haggish_?!"

"Haggish is Scottish, GOLD! NOT Irish!"

"Oh, I'm sorry - am I confusing my Anglo-Saxons! You know how easy it is to _tell you all apart_!"

"What's that supposed to be some kind of..."

"Why are you always looking for an argument, you never complained about my cooking before?" Jerry got an evil look on his face, like a bull ready to charge. "And if memory serves me here, Brown, you had no complaints when I cooked for you on our THIRD date! But then again I forgot _foreplay_ for you consists of "_hi, how are you_!" He gestured with his hands.

"I was faking, Jerry! Fake ING!" Murphy perched up in her chair and into Jerry's face.

Jerry's face shook with anger and Jerry gesturing downward with his index finger. "I know faking, that was _not_ faking!" Jerry leaned forward in his chair, until his and Murphy's head met at the center of the table.

"Oh, yeah! Wanna see!?"

"I'd like to see you try. This place closes at eleven, you know! You think we have _the time_!" Jerry gestured with his fingers

"WATCH ME!" Murphy's head shook, as she slammed her hand on the table.

* * *

**AT THE SAME TIME**

Outside Rachel pulled away from Miles' kiss. "Miles, what are you doing? You're talking crazy?"

"Come on, Rachel. It's ok. _I know_." Miles got that shy confident look in his eyes.

"_know what?"_

"Last night..." Miles lowered his head like a schoolboy and then looked Rachel in the eyes. "When I was putting you to bed you told me you still loved me." Rachel opened her month half way and stepped back. "I tried to pretend it didn't mean anything to me, but _it did_." Miles walked closer to Rachel, as she started to back away.

"Don't be so cocky, Miles, I'm sure I said a lot of things when I was drunk. I WAS DRUNK! I probably said I the loved the _homeless man_ on my corner." Rachel tripped on a pothole."… and the Beach Boys. I think quoting me in that's state is not a smart option." Rachel took a drag off her cigarette and continued to walk farther into the woods.

Miles followed. "You said you were hiding something and then you said it straight out! "Miles, I still love with you and…""

"Well, _I was_ drunk!" Rachel looked at her cigarette. The dampness of the air had blown it out and she threw it to the ground, making sure to stomp it out firmly with her foot.

"Yes, and people tend to tell the truth when their drunk."

Rachel spun around and faced Miles. "And people tend to show their true feeling for others when they would rather spend their nights and weekends in a _cold office building_ then..."

"Rachel, we're in the _news business_, you know just as well as anyone how time consuming…"

"But _Sunday, _Miles! You promised me Sunday's! I _trusted you_. All I wanted was _one day_. That's all I asked for. You couldn't even give me that. Maybe you just didn't want too!"

"Of course I did! But, Rachel, _you're just enough_ to blame on that end as I am..."

"I may be, but I tried to make time, Miles. Sunday, Miles. _Sunday_!? That was supposed to be for us, Miles. We promised that! And you took that promise away! Who works on a Sunday?!" Rachel continued to walk away from Miles.

"Rachel, don't walk away from me!"

Rachel stopped and looked around. Not because of what Miles had said but because she didn't know where she was. "How did we get here?" She turned to Miles as he approached her. They had ended up somewhere in the park.

* * *

**BACK INSIDE**

Corky sat alone at the large table for six. She felt like she had been waiting there forever. Corky had a funny feeling in her stomach which she wasn't sure was from the food or something else. She decided to go to the bathroom and check up on Vivian. Corky made her way past the tables and into the hallway leading to the lobby and the bathrooms. As she past one of the rooms she heard the faint noise of muffled yelling. For a moment she thought the timbre of the shouting sounded familiar, but she shook if off, even after a few scared waiters fled in and out of the room. This was followed by someone who looked like the manager rushing in behind them.

Corky turned past the coat check, opening her purse as she walked, to make sure she still had her compact and lipstick. She closed the purse closed as she made her way towards the bathrooms. Just as she did Corky stopped in mid foot. Her eyes were wide and her month gapped open at what she was seeing. Up against the corner of the wall, and the bathroom, between a potted plant and the door that read "women" were Vivian and Lester making out like teenagers on prom night.

"Lester!" Corky screeched.

Upon hearing Corky's voice Lester looked over at Corky, breaking away Vivian's lips. Both Lester and Vivian looked frightened and ashamed.

"Corky…" Lester spoke, as if his next words would be some sort of explanation, but Corky wasn't standing around to hear it, for in a flash she was gone.

After Corky had made her way out the front door, fifteen minutes later, Jerry and Murphy exited the restaurant as well – also not in the best of moods.

* * *

**LATER**

"Well, _thanks a lot Gold!_ Another place we've been kicked out of thanks to you. The Russian Tearoom_, the Zoo_ and now this!" Murphy noticed Lester and Vivian making out by the front door. "HEY, get a room!"

"And I did it all by myself, huh, Brown! Hey, I didn't go to the Zoo with you?"

"Oh, that was just me," Murphy grumbled for a moment.

"Well, it's still early, why don't we take a carriage ride through the park?"

"A carriage ride? Wow, Gold, that's… romantic?" She seemed pretty shocked.

"What? I'm romantic! I pride myself..."

"Yeah, but you're not_... Conventionally_ romantic! And a carriage ride?"

"As I was saying I pride myself on my _originality_."

"Yeah, you're an original, that's right," she said sarcastically.

"Hey, any yuckle can bring flowers, and besides, I like to surprise you, make _you laugh_. And don't tell me I didn't just surprise you?"

"You don't think this is a bit too, _domestic _for us – normal?"

"I'll yell rude comments at the driver," he smirked with his eyebrows, if that was possible.

* * *

**ELSEWHERE...**

"We can try Rachel?" Miles followed after Rachel. "We both can. I can try not to spend so much time at work..."

"The same way you tried with Corky and with Audrey and Jackie..." Rachel stopped walking again and looked at him.

"Hey, hey, don't do that...that's not fair! I could just as well bring up all of your past relationships as much as you... how about Tom, Eric…"

"Stop it !"

"Jeremy, Tony."

"MILES!"

"You know I was fine with our relationship ending because I assumed that all the reasons you brought up about our jobs and me working all the time, and conflicts of interest, which made us argue all the time and the age thing and so on - was because _they_ made you fall _out of_ love with me! I figured that was something I couldn't change."

"You have a significant track record for _putting work_ over your relationships, _Miles!_"

"And you have a track record for leaving men before they leave you." Miles hit a nerve.

"That's not true."

"But… you said!"

"I was drunk!"

"Hey, you didn't even know what I was going to say. You remember don't you? You remember what you said last night?" He pointed at her.

"This is crazy!"

"Do you love me, Rachel?"

"I will not be _second fiddle_ to your work, Miles."

"I can change! I want to change, Rachel!"

"As I said Miles, you have a long track record for…"

"That was different."

"HOW?"

"They weren't you!" There was a pause of shock from Rachel, which gave Miles the leeway to put his arms on Rachel's shoulder without direst. "Ok, so we both have a problem. But I think if we both want to change - we can do it. I know you think right now you can't trust me. That you can't trust _anyone_ who let you down. But you can. I mean, when will it stop? When will you be happy if you keep doing this?" There was no answer from Rachel." I see. You're just going to go on leaving them before they can leave you. So you make the decisions! You're the one in charge!"

"Yeah I control it, I say yes. It's my life! I'm tired of giving second changes, Miles! I always get let down and back where I started. "

"Just because you feel the world turned its back on you doesn't mean you have to go turn you back on it. And I'm the last person who wants to _jade_ you any further then you already are."

"I am not jaded! I'm just scared. I mean! Oh! You're right! Ok, you're right! You see it's more than that, Miles. I mean? I...I… began to not trust myself around you. I started to become a different person with you, Miles. I mean more different then I have ever been with any other man and it scared me!" Rachel began to pace. "I felt like myself, but not… It was like you were inside of me, for real. In my head. And all I could think of was if it felt this good now, it would feel ten times worse when you left." Rachel stopped and absorbed her last thought. She turned towards Miles. "I guess I never really realized that 'till you were gone."

"And I guess the more I began to love you the more I took you for granite. I realize that now too. I love you, Rachel, and I know you love me."

"I want to trust you, Miles, I do..." She whined.

"Trust me... please... I trust you." He moved in closer. Rachel took off Miles glasses, and they both leaned in for a kiss. This time both parties were willing. They broke away for almost a moment for Rachel to speak three words to Miles.

"I love you." And Miles leaned in and kissed her again.

* * *

**_SOMEWHERE ELSE IN THE PARK_**

"Well, that's _just_ great!" Murphy walked down a white, lace looking footbridge deep in the park, with Jerry close behind. "You had to get us _kicked_ out of the carriage ride too!"

"_Oh _and I did all by myself right, Brown?"

"Yes! Yes you did!"

"Don't give me that! You were laughing…"

"I was not! Do you _always_ have to be _soo_ _belligerent…"_

"Me?! Who is it who can never let anything go without a fight!?"

"Ohhh… Me?"

"New Year's Eve nineteen..."

"Oh, not this again! You always bring this up!"

"Because, it's a _prime example_ of how you can never let anything _go without a fight_!-"

"Ohh, give me a break."

"You'd think once. Just _once_ you could let one thing _slip_ by, but no! Everything is a _criminal offence_!"

"And I _suppose _I'm the only one who-"

"Hey! At least I try. You don't-"

"Like you _try_ when were around my friends! You think you could make _a little effort_! Could it _kill_ you! You have to be so difficult. It's a totally _lack_ of respect on your part!"

"Respect!? _Respect_!?"

Murphy and Jerry walked up the hill towards the street, arguing the entire way, and soon they disappeared into the night. Somewhere in-between the park lights and the street lights Jerry and Murphy found themselves making up in the bushes in-between sixtieth and sixty first. They argued some more and then found themselves in their designer duds sitting in a small pizza shop and talking the night away, while across town Rachel fell asleep in Miles arms.

* * *

**AS FOR CORKY**

Corky had ran so fast out of the Green, wiping her tears as she went, that she hadn't even noticed which way she was running - and that was directly into a wooded area and away from the street. Far away from the streets, lined with their yellow cabs that could surely double for that knight in shining armor Corky so desperately wished for at that moment.

Once Corky stopped running she wandered around trying to find her way out, but at every turn got herself more and more scared and more and more lost. She couldn't hold back her tears, as she walked from park lamp to park lamp, her mascara running. Suddenly, Corky noticed a small footbridge. She thought perhaps if she stood on it she could see her location from its height. So she approached it, walking the beautiful white bridge, with details like lace, to its center. Corky looked over her surroundings still having no idea where she was. She could see nothing that might be acknowledged as the street or a building and she was tired. Corky decided to rest for a moment and plopped herself down against the bridge's edge

"Well, this is just great!" she yelled to the heavens and then collapsed her arms on the bridge's edge.

Corky opened her purse and took out a tissue, tabbing it around her eyes. She was so flustered that as she searched for another tissue she dropped a lipstick on the lower level of the bridge. Corky leaned over the edge knowing that the she could reach it easily.

The next thing Corky knew she heard something behind her and before she could even respond to it her body, along with someone else's, was thrust over the railing and into the dark water. They hit the water with a loud splash. Corky didn't know what hit her – literally. It was all a blur. She emerged her head above the water and took in a breath, coughing out the water in her lungs, as a body pulled her to shore. Corky crawled onto the shoreline, taking in large breaths, as her clothes cling to her like ten-pound weights.

"Corky?" said the man. "Corky are you alright?" Corky had her eyes closed, as she lay on the muddy shore, and the man laid his hand on the side of her face. Corky opened her eyes and gawked at the man hovering over her - it was Peter Hunt. His sweet smile looked down at her with the wetness from the pond running down his chin and just about all of him.

"Peter?" she said dazed.

"Corky, are you alright?" He sounded a little out of breath from having pulled Corky to shore.

"What!?" Corky was very confused.

"Let me help you up." He took her hand and helped her up, she was winded. "Are you alright?"

"Am I alright?" She got her conciseness back "Am I alright?! Well, let's see!? I just got pushed off a bridge into the cold water. I'll probably get walking pneumonia!"

"Corky, I…"

Corky burst up with attitude. "And let's see what _other _wonderful things have happened on this _wonderful_ day to complete my life!" Corky threw her arms about, as she did when she was upset. "I found my boyfriend and another woman," Corky began to whine and cry.

"I'm sorry, Corky. Maybe it wasn't what you thought?"

"Sure. Maybe if he was looking for her tonsils! Orally!"

"Corky, I'm sure things aren't that bad?"

Corky started to walk about as if she was looking for a way to exit, but stopped to answer Peter. "Let's see. I'm alone! My childbearing years are going straight out the window! I'm in a city where I know nobody! I'm alone!" Corky made a sweeping hand gesture, as her voice entered her nose. "I hate my job! And I'm _wet_!" She looked down at herself.

"Corky, I understand you're feeling low, but that's still no reason to _end it all_." Peter rested his hands on Corky's shoulders. He too was equally soaked.

"What?"

"Jumping off a bridge is not the solution...I know that now it may seem hopeless…"

Corky was starting to get it. She pulled away from Peter. "I didn't jump!? You pushed me!"

"Pushed you? I saved your life! You could have... Wait a second." Now, in his boyish embarrassment Peter was starting to get it. "Push you? You weren't going to _jump_?"

"Jump! No? Why would you think a thing like that!?"

"I saw you run pass me upset. And then you were leaning over the bridge and ..." Peter started to feel very stupid. "Oh. I guess what we have here is a little misunderstanding." He tried to laugh it off.

"Please! Misunderstanding? A misunderstanding was my cousin _Guthrie_ spending an hour and a half trying to milk a _boy cow_! This was just plain _stupid_!"

"Hey, that's not fair. I thought you were in distress. I was only trying to help _a friend_."

"Well, I don't need help! I don't need help from anyone. I'll just live out the rest of my life _alone._ With my cat. My whole group of _cats_! That's how they'll find me. Just me and my two dozen _cats_." She sighed in a distressed tone. "Alone. Smelling of cheap liquor and _kitty litter_."

"Corky, don't say that. Remember how upset you were when you turned thirty. Life always comes in flows and ebbs…"

"You took me sky diving," she moaned

"Yeah. And sure things seemed bad then, but look what happened after that. It got better! Things will always get better. And that was almost ten years ago..."

"Ah, god! That means I'm almost forty!" Corky doubled over in the agony of it all. "And look at me nothing. I have nothing," she wept in her way.

"Corky?" Peter tried to get her attention. "Corky?"

"Go away I don't need your help! Or your sympathy!"

"Stop this! You have a career. And good friends…" Peter gestured and sent some of the water off his person to the ground.

Corky was about to respond to Peter when she realized how strange it was to see him. She hadn't seen him in about six years. "Wait a second! What are _you_ doing in New York!?"

"On business…"

"Business? Yeah, I was here on business! I was here on _love_! And look what happened to _that_! Nada!"

"Will you stop saying that!?" He went towards Corky.

"No, you stay away!" She backed away from him. "You've done enough! I don't need any help! Not from you! Not from anyone!" She tried to regain her composure. Peter rolled his neck and head at Corky's response. "I'm going to change this around! You'll see!" She pointed her finger at him. "Sherwood's don't give up! We just make baked goods and keep on keepin' on!" Corky was so upset she had to stop to breathe and look for her next thought.

"Keepin' on?" Corky's wording confused Peter.

"I may be _destitute_, and alone, and _old! _But I'll be happy! You mark my words! You haven't seen the last of _Corky Sherwood_! I'm going to do this myself! All. By. _Myself_!"

"See, Corky, you have the right idea. Only _you_ can change your life." He walked toward Corky again.

"No. G_o away_! _I don't need any help_!" She put her hands out.

Peter decided that he should finally agree with her request. Corky started to walk up the bank of the water, but stopped and turned around. She started to say something to Peter only he knew what she was about to ask before she could even opened her month to form the words. She was looking for her purse and in place of words Peter handed it to her. The same soggy purse he has just found on the shore while Corky had her back to him.

"Thank you." Corky tried to calm her embarrassment by pushing her wet bangs off her forehead. It only made her look foolish. She then took the purse and walked away.

Peter watched as Corky tried to walk up the muddy hill with little success. Every time she caught her footing Corky would slip in the mud. Peter waited, trying not to laugh, for Corky to ask for assistance. After a long stay of similar type events Peter finally said something.

"Would you _like_ some help, Corky?" He raised his eyes brows in her direction.

"Oh, alright!" she whined and Peter helped her up the bank. "But this is the _only_ time!" When they reached the top Corky broke away and composed herself. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I don't need your help." Corky pushed the strap of her dress up on to her shoulder.

"You don't?" he smirked.

"Well, not _anymore!_ I can make it out of here by myself, thank you!" And Corky walked off in a huff.

Peter waited for a moment knowing the next possible outcome when moments later Corky returned in a huff.

"I just need to know which way that would _be_!"

Peter pointed to his left with his boyish grin and a bit of a face. Corky threw back her head and walked past Peter, only to drop back two moments later, as Peter tried to follow behind her. "And don't get too cocky. Because this is the last time I'll be asking anyone for help!"

* * *

**THE NEXT DAY**

"Murphy, I need your help!" Corky leaned her head into Murphy's office.

Murphy was looking around her office franticly searching for something. She looked under stakes of papers that had piled up over weeks in her new office, under books on the ledge in front of her large window, and everywhere possible keys could lose themselves. She even looked in her fishbowl. So when Corky popped her head in it looked like Murphy was ignoring her, or didn't hear her, while she kept investigating for her lost keys. Corky walked in further as Murphy noticed her.

"Hi, Corky," she sounded totally uninterested as she continued looking around. "Where are my keys!?"

"Murphy, can we talk?"

"I have to meet a source, Corky. _Now_ is not the time." Murphy looked over her desk again. "Now where are my papers?!" Murphy started to pile through a stake of papers on her desk. "Shouldn't you be at work, Corky?"

"That's the thing, Murphy. I really need to talk to you. See I..."

"They were right here, I came in… I put them down." Murphy went through her past actions with her hands in an attempt to find her keys.

"I guess you heard I broke up with Lester?" Corky sat on the edge of Murphy's over logged desk. Even though Murphy had only been there for a week her office looked like she had been there for years. Murphy circled her desk, and past Corky, to some papers on a file cabinet near the door.

"Lester who?"

"My boyfriend."

"Yeah. Tough break, Corky. Too bad. Now get out!" Murphy lifted her bag up off her desk and began sifting through it, as she circled back behind her desk.

"I found him with another woman. _Vivian_. Miles girlfriend! They were college sweethearts. And _I _brought them back together!" her voice squeaked. "How romantic!" She really didn't find it romantic.

"Yeah. Tough break, Corky. Too bad. Better luck next time."

"Murphy! You're not listening to me!"

"If you want me to listen, Corky, you're going to have to do something _that benefits_ me in some way. So help me find my keys! Find Keys! Ears open! Now start looking!" Murphy continued to search endlessly, as Corky started to help. Murphy had abandoned her bag by this time for what was behind her desk.

"Why do you need you key's anyway, Murphy? Did you bring your car with you?"

"No, Jerry got me one of those _computerized organizers_..." Murphy said it as if she was much begrudged to actually use the damn thing. "And I wrote... I mean I put the address where I'm meeting this source." Murphy crossed the room to her wall unit. "In it. I forget the password and I think." Murphy reached around her television and then very quickly around the wall unit it was housed in. "I wrote it on the back of one my keys- I mean chain." With no luck Murphy crossed back to where she had been before and started to sift through a set of drawers next to her desk.

Corky only had to look down to find Murphy's keys on the floor in front of her desk. "Ok." Corky leaned down with a sneer in her smile and snatched up the keys in her hand. "I'll help you find your keys, only if you listen _openly _and _honestly_ to what I have to say?"

"Ask whatever you want, Corky, but once I find those key's I'm out of here."

Corky closed her fingers around Murphy's keys hiding them from view. "I thought you'd say that," she whispered. "Ok." Corky leaned on Murphy's desk. "I..."

Murphy looked up at her. "You're not looking! Keep looking!" Corky began to pretend to look around the room.

"I'm not happy, Murphy!"

"Join the club!" Murphy went back to her purse for a second shot.

"I'm serious, _Murphy_. For the last couple of days I've really been reevaluating my life. I really thought that I was happy. I had a good job and a great boyfriend. _I thought_. Then when I found Lester and Vivian together it all fell apart. Nothing was what I thought it was. So I reevaluated things. And I'm not happy. Now my problem is I don't know what to do about!"

"Is there a point to all this, Corky! I really need to get out of here!" Murphy emerged from her bag without her keys. Disappointed she began to replace everything back in her purse.

"My life being torn upside down really made me realize how stuck I am in my life. So, today I took a stand. I matched right into my boss's office, and I..._quit_." She was shocked by her own actions. "I never thought I'd have the guts to do it. My father always said that _stability_ was the most important thing in life and that's how I've led mine. But then my mother always said all she wanted was for me and my sisters to be happy? So, I just _did it_. I still don't believe it! I did it! Should I have done it, Murphy?"

"Listen, Corky, I'm not the best person to ask for advice. Ok, I'm the worst person to ask for advice..."

"But not on this, Murphy, _not on work_. On everything else_… Yes!_" Murphy rolled her eyes. "But on work. No. Please, Murphy?"

Murphy stopped looking for a moment and took Corky's gaze." As I was _saying_. I'm _not_ the best to give advice, but there's one piece of advice I know is true. If it doesn't make you happy, _move on_. _You _are the controller of your own destiny. _You_ are the only person you have to look at in the mirror every morning. Sure, it's not always going to be pleasant to leave a good thing. It may hurt, but if it's right you'll know it's right. _And why?_ Because, you have to think that there's always going to be something better in the other direction. That's how you succeed in life. There, I'm done. Now get off my notes." Corky sat up and Murphy picked up a yellow note pad under Corky. "Hey, my papers!" Murphy picked up some papers under the pad and took her purse off her chair to sort them into the bag.

"That's just what Peter told me…"

"Peter?" Murphy stopped in her tracks. "Hunt? You saw Peter Hunt? You saw Peter? Where?"

"Yeah."

"Where?"

"I... ran into him in the park…"

"Whoa! Wait a minute! Peter was in town?" Murphy began to ponder. "Why didn't he call me?"

"I was so rude to him. I was mad..."

"I told him he could call me?" Murphy circled her desk with her bag on her shoulder.

"But I see what I was trying to do? I was just so mad at everyone for letting me down... So I decided to leave my job because it wasn't making me happy. But now what?! I did it, but now I don't know what to do? I understand what you're saying, Murphy. And I believe it. I do. But what do I do about it Murphy? What's the next step?" She looked at Murphy.

"Jerry, must have scared him off? It couldn't be me?" Murphy leaned her back against her desk and next to Corky.

"Murphy, did you hear what I said!?"

"What? No?" She looked Corky dead in the eye.

"Murphy, I'm at a _crossroads_ and I don't know what to do!" Corky looked at Murphy.

"Yeah, right – listen, Corky if you were _engaged_ to another person and then _you_ and that other person broke up - you wouldn't feel funny - say _calling that person_ if they were say… living with another person, _right_?"

"Murphy, you said you'd listen to me until you found your keys!"

"You're right; I'll never find my keys this way." Murphy went for the wastepaper basket.

"Murphy, I asked you a question!"

"Corky, please, I need to find my keys!" Murphy dumped the contents of the basket on the ground.

"You mean these." Corky dangled Murphy's keys in front of her.

Murphy reached for the keys, but Corky pulled them away. Murphy stopped and rolled her eyes.

"Murphy, what should I do!"

""Murphy, what should I do?" I'm telling you! _Those_ are worst _five_ _words_ in the _English language_!"

"Murphy…" Corky looked at her with her pathetic puppy dog look. "From a friend to a friend. One journalist to another journalist. _Woman_ to _woman_. I'm asking for your advice. What do you think I should do?" Corky sat down in one of Murphy's leather chairs.

Murphy walked over to her with a serious face. "What should you do?" She sat down next to Corky "What should you do?" Murphy tried to take the keys away from Corky by putting her arm around her.

"Murphy!" Corky gave her a horrible look as she pulled her hand away.

"Ok! OK! You want advice on what to do?" Murphy got serious and tough. "Here's some advice. _Don't_ ask for advice. Corky, you're a smart _grown_ woman. And you have your _own mind_ and your _own life_. You have to trust yourself. Do what you want to do. You want to be happy? Be happy? You want to quit your job? Quit your job! If you want to change your life? _Change your life_! You can't decide what to do? Just find something new and _do it_! Don't worry about the consequences. _Believe me,_ _Corky,_ I didn't get where I am today by waiting around to find out what other people thought before I pounced. You know why? Because it's like I told you before. In the end, it only comes down to what one-person thinks. And that's _you_. "

"Murphy, I know you're right. I guess I'm just scared. And then I just start to think. I mean if my life just keeps happening this way I'll never find my soul mate. I want to succeed, but I guess there a part of me that fears that if I keep going for the career like this I'll never find him."

"So, you're going to just settle in the common place in the meantime!? _Corky, _you can't just sit and wait around for a man who doesn't exist! That's crazy!"

"Murphy, you can't tell me you don't think that everyone has that soul mate - that one person they were _meant _to be with!"

"Corky, give me my keys!?" Murphy tried to snatch her keys and Corky jumped off the couch.

"No!"

Murphy stood and grabbed her purse from her desk. "That's it! I'll just get that kid from the mail room to hack into the _damn_ _thing_!" Murphy went for the door as Corky ran after her.

"I know you won't admit it, Murphy. But I know you're a hopeless romantic at _heart." _Corky caught up with Murphy only step beside her.

"Corky, if there is anything I'm hopeless about. It's _hopelessly feed up_ with this _conversation!" _Murphy held onto her large purse with her right hand to stop it from shifting, as she walked towards the elevators.

"What am I saying? You'll settle for anything. _Look who you're with_! Next thing you know you'll be dating bums off the street."

Murphy about-faced Corky as they reached the elevators. She gave Corky an evil look and then hit the elevator button. "_Listen_, Corky, you're going to have to figure out sooner or later that _the_ _man_ on the white horse is _not_ going to ride up and save us. We have to make our own way in the world." Murphy remembered that her mother had told her that.

"Come on, Murphy, I gave up a long time ago on the idea that he'll ride up on his white horse." Corky got despondent, like a girl who was told she shouldn't believe in Santa Claus and knows he's not real, yet still wants to believe. "But he will come, Murphy. He has to."

Murphy pushed the elevator button again. "Then if you believe that, Corky. This "_soul mate_" of yours should be able to find you _no matter what_ you're doing," Murphy said begrudgingly.

"Do you really think that, Murphy!?" Corky was excited.

"No! I just want my keys back!" Murphy put out her hand.

"You may say that, Murphy, but I know different." Corky handed Murphy her keys.

"Murphy!" Miles walked at a quickening pace towards the women.

"Oh Jeez, does the onslaught never end!" Murphy cursed to the heavens.

"Murphy!" Miles was agitated, but then stopped to notice corky. "Hi, Corky."

"Hi, Miles."

The elevator door opened. "What is it, Miles, I'm late!" Murphy stepped into the elevator.

"I wanted to thank you for _the gift_ in my office!" Miles said sarcastically.

Murphy grinned. "I'm sorry Miles I have _no idea_ what you're talking about?" Murphy was playing dumb.

"Murphy," he whispered. "I am the _executive producer_ of a national news broadcast. Not your _whipping boy_ set out for your personal _amusement_."

"Oh, come on, Miles. I don't see why you can't be both!" she smiled slyly. "You did say you wanted to start multi-tasking." She laughed at her own joke. "Besides, it's not that bad. I'm sure _the stains_ will come right out."

"I should have _known_ what would happen if we started working together again. I guess I thought some of us had _grown_?"

"Me too, Miles? Are those _lifts_ in your shoes?" Murphy was gloating.

"Ok, are we done?"

"Miles, come on. I was just feeling a little _nostalgic._ Bringing back a little of the _old times_. You know I could have done _a lot_ worse. I was _nice to_ you with that one."

"That is all you did? Right?"

"You know I'm not sure?" She smirked. "In my old age I've been forgetting a lot of things, like which dry cleaner I took my cleaning to, how many steps in the Lincoln Memorial, whose car I had towed this morning? You know things like that." She grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"This is because I got you that subscription to _Longevity magazine_ for your birthday, _isn't it_?"

"Miles, I have to meet a source." Murphy pushed the elevator button and Miles put his placed his hand between the open doors to stop them.

"Wait, I need you back by noon. We're doing a news break." Miles firmly held onto the elevator door.

"By noon, sure." Murphy thought for a moment and squished her eyes and nose together. "Oh, I'm supposed have lunch with Jim! Could you call his hotel for me and tell him I'll be late."

"Murphy, I'm not you secretary. I think I'd be _criminal insane_ to do that? Ugg," Miles laughed at his own joke and Murphy didn't. "You're having lunch with Jim? Can I come?"

"When did Jim get into to town?" Corky asked.

"Yesterday." Murphy was excited.

"I'm sorry, Miles, but I sort of want to have lunch with Jim alone."

"Oh, come on. I want to see Jim as much as you do. And he's only in town, for what? Two days? Don't be selfish." Miles laughed, "Hey, but then asking you not to be selfish is like..."

"Ok! You can come! Now, will you please let me _go_?!"

"Oh, I wish I could go." Corky's voice tripped with disappointment. "But I have something to do on my own." Murphy and Corky smiled at each other. "Say hello to Jim for me."

"Will do!" Murphy looked at Miles who was holding the door. "Let go of the _door, Miles_!"

"I need to get in."

"Then get in, Miles!" Miles stepped in the elevator and said goodbye to Corky. When the elevator door closed Corky took a business card out of her pocket, from the night before, and stared at it intently. She had made a decision. She was going to make her own way. And she really meant it this time.

_Through the mirror of my mind_  
_Time after time_  
_I see reflections of you and me_

_Reflections of_  
_The way life used to be_  
_Reflections of_  
_The love you took from me_

_Oh, I'm all alone now_  
_No love to shield me._  
_Trapped in a world_  
_that's a distorted reality_

_Happiness you took from me_  
_And left me alone_  
_With only memories_

**~ Reflections ~ Supremes**


	5. CHAPTER FIVE: GOLDEN OPPORTUNITIES

**Chapter Five: **Golden Opportunities

* * *

"Jimmy Mack. Jimmy Mack. Oh, Jimmy Mack. When are you comin' back"

**_~ Martha and the Vandellas_**

* * *

**THE SAME DAY**

That afternoon Murphy and Miles sat at the restaurant waiting for Jim Dial. It was a lovely day and they sat outside at an equally lovely table overlooking the street. All that separated them from the pedestrians, on the street, was a small white fence and a few flower boxes. They looked over their menus and waited.

"So, isn't this nice. Two friends. Colleagues. Compadreas. Outside of the office. Talking. Chatting really…"

"Miles, the evening news _is not_ getting my story."

"Oh, come on, Murphy. You have this _national _forum. Why not use it?

"And I will next week when I go _live _with _my_ special."

"Well, _yes,_ but why wait a week, when you can do it now. We wouldn't want Diane Sawyer to scoop you again?" Miles tried to taunt Murphy, but she saw right through him.

"You're not getting the story, Miles. _In fact,_ neither will anyone else, because it's _my story_. I devolved it. I nurtured it, and _no one_ is going to get all the credit and glory_, unless it's me_." Murphy smirked. "Not even Sawyer can take this one away from me. It's that _hot_. That explosive… that…shall I say, well… ME!"

Miles look at his watch. "Where's Jim? It's unlike him to be late."

"Well, I told him one just in case. I'm sure he'll be along shortly."

"So, what's Jim been up too? I haven't heard from him in a while."

"I don't know. This will be the first time I've seen him since we left Washington."

"We?"

"Jim and I?"

"Oh."

"You thought I meant _me and Jerry_ didn't you?"

"No, of course not." Miles tried to ignore the question and looked at his menu. "Oh look, pumpkin ravioli. That looks good! I think I'll get that."

"Miles. You're my friend. You're my boss. But grow up! I mean, everyone else is learning to deal with this in a mature and adult matter."

"And how's that?"

"They bring it up and _I kill_ them."

"I'm sorry, Murphy. But I'm you friend. _We're all_ your friends. And we can't sit idly by and watch you _throw_ your life away with _Jerry Gold_."

"_Miles,_ I'm not throwing my life away! _In fact,_ I think Jerry is very good for me and I think you should be happy for me! BE happy for me!" she grunted. "Happy!"

"The man is the devil, Murphy. Pure _Satan_. The idea of the two of you…"

"Ok! Stop! That's it. We obviously can't talk about this without getting into this _no win_ argument. Not that that's even stopped me before, but Jim will be here soon and I don't want to upset him with this. So, can we talk about something else?"

"Ok." Miles stuffed his head in his menu. "For Jim's sake."

Murphy threw down her menu and leaned on the back of her chair looked out, away from Miles, on to the street. The two of them didn't talk for a few moments, as the tension was thick, until Murphy thought of something to start the conversation on a new topic.

"Let's talk about you, Miles?" Murphy took off her reading glasses and set them on the table.

"What about me?" Miles dropped his menu to the table, as a waiter brought each of them a glass of water and then walked away

"Well. Coming to work late - leaving early - secret conversations in your office. _Someone_ _HAS A girl-friend_," she sang the last part as a taunting junior school-er. Miles looked embarrassed. "We know she has to be new, that smile on your face every morning shows that, and it's not the girl from the art department, because according to Corky she found her boyfriend distracting her tonsils by use of his tongue. So, spill!"

"Well, yes, I have a girlfriend…" Miles got a boyish look on his face.

"Good for you, Miles. Who is she? Where did you meet her? Come on. Tell me all the _juicy_ details…"

"Well, actually I told you about her."

"You did?"

"Yeah. I use to date her before…"

"So, this is an old flame. _Inte_resting." Murphy's eyes lit up.

"She's the one who..." And Miles trailed off as he noticed something across the street. "Oh, my _god_. There she is." Murphy looked across the street and saw a blur of a women wave back. "I should invite her to join us." He looked at Murphy. "Is that alright?"

"Sure." Murphy's eyes twinkled with the lust of taunting Miles even further.

"Murphy, be nice! She really means a lot to me." Miles got up from the table and disappeared.

Murphy took her reading glasses from the table and placed them in her bag. As she turned back to the table and took a swig of her water she could notice two figures approach the table.

"Murphy Brown, I would like you to meet…"

And at the same time Miles gave Rachel's full name Murphy's eyes hit Rachel's face. Murphy's eye rose in shock, as the water she was swallowing entered her air pipe, causing her to chock. Murphy turned her head over the table and brought her hand to her throat.

"Are you, alright?" Rachel and Miles questioned.

Murphy coughed a bit more. As her coughing subsided Rachel and Miles stood across from Murphy, looking concerned, as Murphy put her hand up to suggest she would be alright.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," Murphy demanded.

"You're sure?" Rachel questioned.

Murphy still in a little bit of shock as she looked straight ahead, getting her first good look at Rachel and Miles. "No. I'll be ok." Murphy sat back in her chair.

"Wrong pipe?" Miles asked.

"Yeah, something like that." Murphy looked at Miles and then at Rachel with a smirk.

Rachel looked just like she had on the television, but it was eerier to see her in person. Rachel was of course thinking the same thing about Murphy.

To see Rachel's brown eyes in person, the aura, and her obvious involvement with Miles took a while for Murphy to get used to. Rachel pulled her hair behind her ear and Murphy noticed its shape. Her ear was just like her father's - shaped just like a question mark. Jerry's eyes, the shape of her ear - it was uncanny. Murphy held her hands on the arms of her chair and shook her head. She soon began to grin.

"It's a real pleasure to meet you meet, Ms. Brown." Rachel extended her hand and Murphy took it, still looking at Rachel with amazement. When she did take her hand Murphy noticed some writing, in pen, on the back of her palm.

"Why does that say…" Murphy squinted at the lettering. "Life is weird?"

"Because it is," she stated like a question.

"You can say that again." There was a pause, as Rachel sat down. "So, you're Miles' girlfriend?"

"Yes." Rachel smiled, unsure what was meant in the connotation of Murphy's remark. Besides she felt awkward finally meeting a woman she had admired for years.

"Where did you two _meet exactly_?" Murphy tried to get Miles goat.

Miles and Rachel looked at each other and laughed.

"Well, it's a funny story…" Miles said in his rather adult way, but before he could finish a phone ring stopped him.

The trio all looked to see if it was theirs. It was Rachel's and she politely excused herself from the table.

"I know what you're thinking?" Miles rushed to Murphy with his words as soon as Rachel was out of earshot.

"Oh, really, Miles?" Murphy leaned back a bit. "I think you have no idea what I'm thinking. None at all." She smirked.

"I know she look's young, but she really a lot wiser than her years. Once you get to know her."

"Get to know her? You don't say?" Her smirked continued. "Miles, there's nothing you want to tell me, is there?"

"No, why?" Miles looked at Murphy confused, as Rachel came up beside him and sat back down next to him. Miles leaned in and kissed Rachel gently and the two looked at Murphy.

Murphy shook her head as her smirk was beginning to become a sort of inner laughter, due to the wonderful joke only she knew the punch line to – and she was reviling in it.

"Well, hello there?" Jim's melodious voice and smile shined down at them.

"Jimbo!" Miles shot up like lighting and gave Jim a large hug, one that made him, as usual, uncomfortable.

"Jim." Murphy smiled at him. "It's so good to see you!" Jim smiled and sat down next to Murphy.

"I didn't realize we've be having company?" Jim looked at Rachel.

"Jim Dial, Rachel Margolis-" Miles introduced them and Murphy continued Miles sentence in an awkward manner.

"-She's Miles' girlfriend. Rachel's Miles' girlfriend."

"Very delighted to meet you." Jim dipped his head at her.

The four had lunch and enjoyed each other's company. Jim talked about his wonderful new job and Murphy was glad to see Jim again, but what really seemed to distract her was Rachel. Somewhat so, Rachel herself, at times felt awkward at the way Murphy was looking at her. It was a very short lunch for Miles and Murphy who needed to get back to work. Near the end of the meal, while Jim had gone away to use the bathroom and Rachel was using the phone again Miles and Murphy were left alone again.

"So, do you like her?" Miles asked.

"Yes, I do. But then again she seems to be the type of person who just _comes across well_. _You know, good genes_." Murphy kept hinting, trying either to get something out of Miles, or just play with him for later. Miles smiled at Murphy's comments. "Miles, what do you know about Rachel? I mean is there something you want to tell me? It's ok. I won't judge you. Ok, _I'll gloat_, but I won't judge." Miles looked confused, but had no time to answer as Rachel appeared at the table.

"I have to go. I'm sorry. I have an audition and it's been moved up." Rachel came up to the table. "Murphy, you know Rachel's up for a spot on Kay's new show."

"Miles, please." Rachel waved Miles off while at the same time scanned Murphy up and down for her thoughts on the matter.

"What? I'm proud of you." Miles looked at his watch. "Oh, I better go find that waiter and get our check. Murphy and I really need to get out of here." Miles kissed Rachel on the lips "I'll see you tonight." And Miles jaunted off.

"It was very nice to meet you, Murphy." Rachel grabbed her purse. "We really should do this again."

"He has no idea does he?" Murphy slightly shook her head and leaned back in her chair. Murphy was playing it cool; what she did best.

"Excuse me, Murphy?" Rachel placed her phone in the purse and looked at Murphy.

"That your father's Jerry Gold." Rachel's faces whiten. "And don't try to deny it. I have a _very good source_ on the subject"

"Who?" Her body stiffened.

"Jerry Gold."

Rachel lowered down into her chair, looking around to see if Miles was still nowhere to be found.  
"I thought the two of you were just a rumor?"

"We're not."

"It's never come up..."

"So, you haven't told him yet?" Murphy leaned in a bit.

"I don't see what the big deal is?" Rachel leaned in towards Murphy.

"Oh, I think you do."

"I never see my father. He's not in my life. There's no reason to bring it up." There was a pause. "So, what are you going to do now? Are you going to tell Miles?"

"No." Murphy leaned back. "I think that's up to you." Murphy folded her hands on the table. "Why so concerned?"

Rachel dumped the contents of her purse on the table. "Like you said it, it's up to me." She started to fumble with her cigarette case and Murphy grabbed it from her.

"I wish you wouldn't-" Murphy looked at the case and noticed the monogram of J.A.G on the cover. "Why won't you see him?" She was commenting on the case. "This case. You kept it all these years?"

"It's complicated."

"Tell me about it." She looked at Rachel dead on.

"You wouldn't understand." Rachel was agitated.

"Try me."

"I don't get it, Murphy? What do you see in him?"

"How about we have dinner and I tell you what I see in him?"

"And why should I believe you, Murphy? Because, you and my father are having some _fling_?"

"No. Because I know Jerry Gold better then he knows himself." Murphy paused. "Because, I happen to love him."

Rachel stared at Murphy intently and Murphy stared back, only the more seasoned reporter of the two had no nerves what-so-ever. Murphy has stared down many an interviewee, in more precarious situations then this one, and she knew when she had someone on the ropes. And Rachel had been hit hard. Murphy sat back and waited.

Suddenly, Rachel caught sight of Miles – she looked terrified. "I have to go." Rachel scooped her belongings into her purse and left.

Murphy still hung on to Jerry's cigarette case. She held it with her thumb and fore fingers, rubbing the sliver cover, as she thought, bobbing the case up and down. It was an interesting situation.

Murphy put the case down, as a waiter and the check, about ten feet away from the table, accosted Miles. She took out her organizer and ripped out a piece of paper. She casually wrote down her phone number plus address and then slid it into the case before snapping it shut. As she finished the activity Miles hit the table. Miles placed the check on the table and sat down.

"Interesting girl," Murphy commented calmly, with a hint of preoccupation.

"Yeah, isn't she?" Miles was very excited.

"Rachel forgot this." Murphy handed Miles the cigarette case.

Miles took it and looked at it funny. "Funny. She loves this thing." Miles was perplexed. "I can't believe she forgot it." He placed the case in his breast pocket.

"Really?" Murphy found this all very interesting.

"Where is your lovely date, Miles?" Jim sat down next to Murphy.

"She had to go." Miles took his wallet out of his pocket

"Too bad. A perfectly delightful girl, Miles."

"Thank you, Jim." Miles placed his credit card on the check plate.

"No, Miles. Let me get this." Jim placed his hand on the check tray and went for his own wallet.

"No, really, Jim, you're _our guest_. Let me. I have an expense account, you know?" Miles acted important.

"Really, Miles. Let me do it." Jim smiled. "I want to do it!" he huffed.

"No, really, Jim, I insist."

"Let me pay it little man!" he puffed.

"Jim, are you alright?" Murphy was concerned by Jim's attitude.

"Yes. Of course. I'm perfectly fine. Why?" Jim looked around and tried to regain his composure.

"Because, if you huff and puff any more I'm afraid you're gonna to blow the _whole_ house down!"

"Yeah, Jim. Something does seem to be bothering you." Miles added.

"Well..."

Miles leaned in "Jim, you can tell us. If you can't tell us, who can you tell? Come on, we're here for you."

"Is it Doris?" Murphy asked.

"No. She's fine."

"Your job?" Miles asked.

"Well, I..."

"I thought you said you were enjoying your job?" Murphy questioned.

"I lied." Jim finally let it out and became a little more animated than usual. "I have never felt _so frustrated_ in my life." Jim made a disproving sound.

"What happened, Jim?" Murphy questioned.

"I went up to New Hampshire thinking I would help change the world, or at least _that small part of it_. Doris and I rented the house. Packed up all our bags. We were _determined_ to start anew in our retirement years. To live out our golden years among the _golden leaves_ of New England."

"But, Jim, you're just starting out. I'm sure after time. After you've settled…things will turn around," Murphy tried to reassure Jim.

"Oh, believe me, that's what I told myself at first, but _nothing_ was like what I expected it to be!" Jim shook his head. "I _expected_ to work _side by side_ with old newspapermen. We would _work together_ like the way journalism use to be - _helping_ to _inform _the people of town - about the _world _and _each other_. There'd be a _kind old man_ who owned the place and he'd let me do my magic and once a month he'd come around, check things out." Jim smiled at the idea, which turned into a frown as his next thought crossed his mind. "But instead of _some sweet old man in cardigan sweaters_ who's lived in the town for years, I have _Wyn_! A twenty something BOY who works for Time/Warner and plays video games while he calls me on his _headset phone_!" Miles and Murphy didn't know what to say. "I wasn't able to do _anything_ I wanted to do. All they wanted was _tawdry _and _sensational_ stories," Jim grunted. "No one _cared_ how long the _old glorious mill_ had been around- with its history and its _relevance _to the community. Nooo! All _they_ _wanted to know_ was how soon it could be _torn down_ to make way for the new Wawa! Do you know that _not one_ of their buildings in the center of town were _original_! It was just _Starbucks,_ and _Kmarts_, and _Bath and Body Works_ up the wazu! I moved out of Washington for a change of _scenery. Of ambience._ The only scenery change I got was the _drug fair_ was now on the _left_ instead of the right!" Jim started to calm down. "I don't know what I was thinking. It's just _too late_ for the America I grew up with. I really thought I could make _a different_, start from _the_ bottom up. But it looks like finally all the crevices of life have been _infiltrated_."

"No, it's not, Jim!" Murphy faced off at Jim. "Don't say that. I don't want to believe that we can't change things. _So,_ we feel _the demise_ of what we know and love is becoming more apparent. But that should be what makes us _man the gates_ and _fight_ ever harder! Sure, it seems hopeless. But It can be done." Murphy looked at Miles. "Right, Miles?"

"Right!"

"But how, Murphy? I've tried all the channels?"

"So, you try them again! Think about it, _Jim._ We're people in _power_. _We're_ the _ones_ who set the _example_ and if we keep on trying to do that by continuing to inform people of their right as human beings to know the truth, we truly win. Because, we may not understand it, but we are the trendsetters. _We_ are who _people_ look towards, and if we stay _committed _to our beliefs and don't talk down to people - sooner or later they're come around. I know it. I have to _believe that,_ Jim. We can't be the only ones. It's just too depressing to think otherwise. _Come on, Jim_? How many times did you tell me _no_t to give up? Don't tell me you're not going to do take your own advice?"

"You're right, Murphy!" he said with a sense of purpose. "I have to continue up that mountain. I can't just say I'll never get to the top. When things weren't working out as I had planned I just assumed it was the system. I never looked at myself! Ohh!" Jim was beginning to understand what his problem had been. "Murphy, I feel so invigorated! I haven't felt this way in so long time. Now, all I have to do is find something to put all this energy." Jim took in an invigorating breath. "Oh, I feel like _storming_ the nightly news right now!"

"Now, hold your horses, Jim," Murphy was concerned. "Remember, _I'm on it _this week. You could always try ABC. I've seen Jennings at the gym. I think you could take him."

"Ohh!" Miles sprouted up. He had been in thinking mode for the last few minutes. "I have an idea! Bear with me. It's just an idea. But! What if you and Jim... _co-hosted_ the News - _together?_"

"Together! As in the same time?" Murphy was agog.

"Yeah, the old _gang_. _Back _together again!"

"You really mean that, Miles!" Jim looked over at Miles with bated breath. "Oh, it'd be so wonderful to be on the air again. When could I start?"

"I could have you both on the air by tonight!"

"When you mean together?" Murphy questioned. "Do you mean we'd be at the same anchor desk? Or do you mean me anchoring and Jim someplace else?" Murphy was still on her own topic.

"Oh, this is wonderful, Miles. How long will Rather be out?"

"Just a week!" Miles was ecstatic, for Jim.

"Wonderful! I'll have to go back to the hotel, tell Doris, get a change of clothes."

"Oh, this so wonderful! The old gang together. Jimbo!" Miles was more enthusiastic then a sailor in a whorehouse.

"But I'll still be doing the weekend report _alone_ right." Murphy groaned to Miles, as Jim sat up as perky as Jim Dial could.

Miles heard Murphy's words but looked at Jim. "That's right... Jim! Jim! Once Rather comes back and Beckstrom leaves - _the weekend spot_ will be open for a few weeks! The network would _flip_ if you agreed to do it!"

"Miles, I agreed to do it! I did! Me! You asked me to do that spot!" Murphy was just about ready to jump out of her skin.

"Oh, Murphy, you have your specials." He waved Murphy off; Murphy grumbled. "What do you say, Jim?"

"I've always thought the weekend reports could use some _buffing up_. I have a few ideas I've batted around over the years..." Jim looked at his watch. "Oh, I better get back to hotel so I can get back in time to prep." Jim patted down his tie and took on his anchorman body, face and voice, "I'll see you both in the studio."

"Miles, that's my job!"

"But you have your special to work on?"

"So! I want to do the news too, Miles! You said I could do the news!" Murphy whined "You said I could do the _news_ and you said I could do it _alone_!"

"Hey, now." Jim tried to settle her down. "Murphy, remember. We're role models." Jim's eyes lit up and he walked off looking as proud as a peacock.

Miles finally looked at Murphy who didn't look happy. "Come on, Murphy, its Jim?" Murphy gave Miles a fierce look which made Miles retreat into himself. "I'm going to pay for this aren't I? Ugg" Miles sunk off to the side.

"More then you know, Miles. More than you know." Murphy smiled and shifted in her chair. "But it will be nice to work with Jim again." She smiled "The old gang together again."

"See, that's the spirit." Miles motioned for the waiter to come over and take the check. Miles had a look of confidence again.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, Miles. You're still gonna pay."

Miles once again had fear in his eyes.

* * *

**LATER**

Murphy went straight home after the broadcast. She opened the door and slammed it with great force before she tossed her keys on a small table she had just bought for the foyer. Murphy began to cross the foyer to the living room, but stopped for a moment, turned back, and eyeballed the table set up against the wall. She didn't seem to like it. Murphy looked towards the center of the foyer and then back at the table next to the door. She picked up the circular table and set it in the center of the room, satisfied with its appearance, as if it made some sort of strange sense in the Murphy Brown's version of Feng Shui. Of course, what Murphy failed to acknowledge to herself, was the fact that there was reasoning behind her sudden need to redecorate, the same thing that compelled her to change around the living room as well. And that was because it made Jerry's apartment look more like her Georgetown townhouse.

Murphy walked into the living room and over to a large table that once had sat in the den, but now was positioned against the back of the center black couch. On top of the table, along with the mail Murphy was heading for, where tons of pictures - all of which were Murphy's. There were pictures of Avery and her, a picture of her mother, a new picture of her and Jerry in the park. An old black and white picture of Murphy and Frank from 1979, and of course her autographed picture of Robert Kennedy, which he personal signed for her when she worked on his campaign for President, among many others. Now, what had once been a drab un-personal apartment, with Murphy's touches had become more like a home. Not that Murphy had brought a lot of things with her from Washington. Bringing too much would of assumed permanency, but the few things she did bring set about the room and the fireplace, made the room more colorful and a bit cluttered. This was because of in the little over half a century that Jerry Gold had occupied his space on earth he seemed to have collected absolutely nothing.

Murphy sifted through the mail and noticed a sound coming from Avery's room that turned out to be Eldin.

"Hideo Ho." Eldin entered the living room.

"Eldin, what are you doing here? I thought you and Avery were going to the park?"

"We were. Until, I had a sudden rush…" Murphy turned around to face Eldin. "…Of inspiration!" Eldin became expressive with his hands. "I was walking with Avery when I had an epiphany… "

"Eldin, did you have the mail forwarded for the summer?"

"What?" He leaned into Murphy in a perturbed way.

"The mail? There's still no mail for me today. Did you have the mail forwarded like I asked?"

"Did you hear anything of what I just said?"

"Yeah. Park. Walk. Painting. Epiphany. I got that. _Now, what about the mail?"_

"Don't you want to know what it is?"

"Of course. But first can we concentrate on important things. Like me!"

"And you wonder why you were single for fifty years."

"I guess that's a no."

Eldin walked over to the step leading to the dining room and took hold of a wooden paint mixer/stick to mix the paint can resting in his left hand. Murphy made a face, as she took what she thought was the last piece of mail only to discover it not. Murphy stopped short in her perusing of the mail and stared at the large envelope. It looked like it was in German and Murphy recognized the name on the return address, it was from Jerry's lawyer in Germany.

Murphy kicked off her shoes and walked over to Jerry's desk, opposite the hallway door to Avery's room, and deposited Jerry's mail. She started to walk away from the desk but stopped. She looked back at the mail and then picked up the suspicious letter. She put the letter up to the light to see if she could see anything through the envelope and of course she couldn't. In her disgust, over the fact, she tossed the letter back onto Jerry's desk.

Murphy walked over to the phone and dialed information. "Can I have the number for Georgetown post-office, in the Washington DC area? Thank you." Murphy waited for a moment and then slammed the phone down. "Busy!"

Murphy then looked like she was pondering something for a moment. She sat down on the couch and tried to shake off the letter and her brain onto other subjects. Eldin walked back into the living room, as she spoke to herself.

"What am I going to do? Should I tell him? What's the point?"

"What are you going to do? Linseed oil just went up another dollar, but you don't see me _whining _about it"

"Eldin?" Murphy turned her head, as Eldin circled the back couch with a bucket of rags. "If you knew something about someone that really had _no bearing_ on their relationship what-so-ever… _In fact_, bringing it up would probably_ upset_ _or mess_ up the situation more for the other person then help. Plus, I sort of told _this_ person I wouldn't approach this other person. But it's not like I approached her. I saw an opportunity and I..."

"When you do this for a living do you need an interpreter?" Murphy gave Eldin a look as he picked up his bag of brushes from the corner of the living room.

"Ok, this is the situation..."

"Oh! Oh! Oh, no! You killed someone didn't you? I knew _this_ would happen! Don't tell me anything..."

"Eldin?"

"I wouldn't normal like to break the law like this. But we have to think of the child. He can't be growing up with a mother in the _joint_."

"No, I didn't kill anyone, Eldin! Now do you mind, I have a very serious dilemma on my hands!" Murphy followed Eldin as he crossed the living room. "I found out that Jerry's daughter is dating my old boss Miles..."

"The short guy with the glasses?" He gestured with the small bucket.

"Yeah…" Murphy was not amused. Eldin laughed. "I'm just debating whether I should tell Jerry. I mean it has _no real_ bearing on his relationship with her, and I feel since... Well, I just don't want to discourage him more then he already is. I feel this could. But if I don't tell him, that's keeping something from him and Jerry and I said we would never do that, not that we tell each other _everything._ We keep some things from each other, but this is a big something. Plus, I sort of told him I wouldn't say anything to her. Not that I do whatever he tells me to do. I just now it means a lot to him if he does this thing by himself."

"Why is it your life always sounds like a Spanish soap opera without the sub-titles?"

"I'm asking for advice, Eldin!"

"Why are you asking me for? You're just gonna to do what you want."

"That never stopped you before, but fine. I'll make up my own mind, thank you!"

"Well, that was repetitive." Eldin shock his head and walked into the hallway towards his new masterpiece.

Murphy sat herself down on the couch made herself comfortable.

"Hey, Mom!" Avery entered from the den through the hallway to the back of the apartment.

"Hi, Honey." Murphy's eyes lit up, as her young son came over to her, gave her a huge hug and then snuggled next to her on the couch. "How was your day?"

"Great! Eldin took me to the MAMA."

"The MOMA."

"Yeah, the MOMA. The Museum of Modern art."

"I know, Honey." She smiled.

"But we didn't get to go play catch. Maybe tomorrow." He looked sad.

"How about you give me a few minutes to relax and then we'll go to the park before dinner."

"Really? Thanks, Mom." Avery hugged her and ran off towards his room. "I'll get my mitt." And he trailed off.

Murphy smiled, shook her head and then heard the sound of the door being unlocked, followed by the emergence of Jerry at the front door. Murphy turned her head towards the noise as Jerry entered. He threw his keys where the small table had been that morning, only to have them fall to the ground. He turned his head as he noticed the sound of them failing to the floor. Jerry looked at the ground and then over to the center of the room where the table now stood. He gave a look, opened his month, and turned his head, closing the door behind him. Jerry leaned down, picking up his keys, and then threw them on the table along with his newspaper, before entered the living room.

"Hey."

"Hey." Jerry walked towards Murphy on the couch with a smile, but tripped over Murphy's shoes before he could reach her. He regained his balance with an offset look and then walked over to her on the couch before kissing her lightly on the lips. "How was your day?"

"Good. You?"

"Yeah! Fabulous." Jerry leaned in again and kissed Murphy further.

"There's mail for you. I think it's something from you lawyer."

"Oh." Jerry walked over to his desk and leafed through the mail. "So, get _this._ Ends up since the TV's show's being repeated on Monday nights after the news it's eligible for the _Primetime Emmy's in the fall_."

"Jerry, that's great!"

"Yeah, I had to decide today which shows I want to summit for consideration. I'm still stuck between the one where James Carvile tried to strangle me, or when Janet Reno threatens to have me _deported_."

"Well, nothing says awards winning television like a _good throttling_."

"That's what I was thinking."

"Hey, Mom. You ready?" Avery ran through the room holding two baseball gloves

"Yeah, let me go change."

"Where you guys going?"

"To play ball." Murphy pushed herself off the couch.

"Oh! I need a bat." Avery ran back towards his room.

"And you were going to go without me?" Jerry mocked hurt.

"No offence, Jerry. But you throw like a _girl_."

"I do not! Baseball just isn't my sport. Now, football, that's a _man's _game!" Murphy made a face. "Oh, I get it." Jerry started to unbutton his jacket." _Fontana's_ coming." Jerry placed his jacket on the back of his desk chair while Murphy walked over to the hall closet.

"Frank?" Murphy started to search through the closet, throwing things out as she searched. "No, Frank isn't even in town. "Ah, HA!" Murphy found her baseball mitt and kicked the rest of the things she had taken out of the closet back in, barely shutting the door closed. Jerry shook his head and Murphy entered the living room again. "Oh, I saw him today and I just..."

"Today? No, Frank's in the Hamptons all summer. I just talked with him yesterday." Murphy passed Jerry with a strange look on her face.

"Oh, I must have been wrong then." He smiled, as Murphy entered the hallway to their bedroom.

Eldin walked into the living room holding a small ladder over his shoulder. He walked over to the wall next to Jerry's desk and set the ladder against another ladder of equal size, before beginning to compare them.

Jerry stood next to the desk pondering something. "I just saw _Fontana_…" Jerry took sight of Eldin." Hey, Eldin."

"Yeah, Yeah."

"Eldin?" He turned his head slightly towards him. "You're always around, Murphy..."

"That I'm _afraid _is true," Eldin said dryly.

"If you knew something about someone. A friend of someone's and..."

"You two talk on Television for a living, _right_?" Eldin went to pick up the ladder, but Jerry leaned in and whispered to him making him stop before he could.

"I saw her friend Font...Frank, and I know he's been in town for a while - in fact, I'm sure of it...and Murphy just told me she knows nothing about it. I'm not sure if I should tell her about it because..."

"Avery!" Murphy bellowed through the living room.

"Forget we ever had this conversation." Jerry coughed and walked away from Eldin.

"I always do." Eldin picked up the other ladder and crossed the living room again to Avery's room.

Murphy jumped down off the bottom step, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, a baseball hat, with her hair in a ponytail and a glove rested in her right hand.

"OK!" Avery ran out of his room and towards the door and past Jerry.

"Hi, Jerry! Bye, Jerry!" And he opened the door and waited for his mother.

"Hey, Kid."

"We'll be home in an hour." Murphy kissed Jerry and walked towards the foyer, as Jerry crossed the living room in the opposite direction. Murphy hit the first step to the foyer and stopped. She turned around and called to Jerry.

"Jerry?"

Jerry turned his head in anticipation to what Murphy was about to say. "Yeah?"

Murphy shook her head at Jerry. "No," she laughed and shook her head. "Never mind." The two smiled and preceded in the direction they had previous been walking in.

Jerry walked one step and then turned and called to Murphy. "Brown?"

"Yeah?" Murphy turned in anticipation to what Jerry was about to say.

"Nothing. Never mind." Jerry turned his head and the two proceeded as they had before, but they each had only hit two steps when Murphy called Jerry's name again.

"Jer?"

"Yeah." There was a short pause.

"No. I… Never mind." They both turned away and then Jerry started up the conversation again.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" he turned his head and called to her

"No." She smiled "Why? Is there something you want to tell me?"

"No. No." They both looked at each other for a moment and then each exited the living room in opposite directions.

That night Murphy was sleeping when she heard a noise coming from what she thought was the living room. She woke up somewhat befuddled and looked at the clock- it was two a.m. She brushed her hand towards Jerry's side of the bed, as she was about to call out to him, but before she could she could feel he was not lying next to her. Murphy put on her robe and walked into the living room, as her eyes adjusted to the light. She looked around and heard the noise again, coming from a room off the veranda. Murphy walked into what Jerry had allocated to his fitness room

"Gold! What are doing?" Murphy walked into the room and found Jerry doing reps of weights above his head. He looked like he had been there for a good amount of time.

"I'm barraging a peace accord between _Israel_ and the _Middle East_! What does it look like I'm doing?" Jerry let out a breath and set his weights on a rack above his head. He sat up and wiped the sweat off his brow."

"It's two in the morning!"

"I can't sleep."

"And you feel _physical excretions_ is going to put you to sleep." Murphy's eyes twinkled at her next thought. "Not that it stopped you in _other areas_," Murphy smiled slyly at her jab.

Jerry ignored the comment and grabbed a towel off a bike machine next to the door and rubbed it along the back of his neck. He was still a bit out of breath. "Well, I had other ideas, but you hate it when-"

Murphy wouldn't even let Jerry finish his vulgar joke this time. "Gold, this is the fifth night in a row. What's going on with you?"

"It hasn't been _that much_!"

"Jerry, I sleep next to you ever night, _I think I know_."

"It's not that _bad_..."

"Jerry, on your show yesterday you _fell asleep_ during the commercial break! There was thirty second of dead air accompanied by your constant _snoring!"_

"I had _Ralph Nador_ on, of course I fell asleep! Besides, who said I didn't do that on purpose. I was just getting him back at him for that time he slashed my tires. And hey, I thought you didn't listen to my show."

"My camera men do," Murphy said, insinuating his show was lower than her standards. "I over_heard _them talking about it."

"Really?" He didn't believe her.

"Gold?" Murphy walked closer to him and put her hand on the bike machine.

"Why is it you always think you have the answers when it comes to me, when it comes to _everything?_! _Maybe_ this has nothing to do with anything! Maybe you're wrong? Did you ever think of that!"

"No!" Murphy walked beside Jerry. "It's about Rachel isn't it?"

"What? You _are_ **so** wrong!" Jerry turned his head in avoidance and walked over to the window and a rack of weights. "That's over with." He lobbed his towel on the rack with great force.

"Over with?"

"Yeah." Jerry looked at Murphy. "I've made a decision about that. She doesn't want to see so me. And there's nothing I seem to be able to do about it. End of story. Everyone's happy." Jerry walked past Murphy and began pacing the length of the window

"And that's why you're in here doing crunches at two a.m. because you're _happy_?"

"No. But I find it makes the _babes_ happy." Jerry tried to make a joke with a figurative "wink and a smile", but Murphy had other issues at hand.

"Why don't you go see her again? If it's bothering you so much? I hate to see you like this, Jerry..."

"I did." Jerry stopped and looked at Murphy. "She doesn't want to see me, Brown! So, lay off it already! Jeez!" He stopped for a moment revealing his vulnerable side. "She's ashamed of me, Murphy. What is there I can do? She has an idea about me and there nothing I can do about it. So. I tried. I failed. End of story." He put the façade back on.

"And you're fine with that?"

"Yes!"

"Huh! Well, I don't believe you." Murphy caught his eyes.

"How many times can we have this discussion?" It was of course an exaggeration because Murphy and Jerry had only had this conversation once or twice before.

"What is going on with you, Gold...?" Murphy knew it was eating at him, but this seemed beyond anyway that she had seen him react before. It seemed even worse than that time two months ago in Murphy's kitchen.

"All I'd be doing would be alienating her!"

"It never stopped you before!"

"This is different!" Jerry walked behind the row of weights, on the other side of the room, and over to a small refrigerator.

"What is with you, Gold? This isn't like you?"

"What! I'm still the same."

"You don't give up."

"I'm not giving up! There just comes a time when if someone feels one way there nothing you can do about it."

"Jerry." Murphy followed and talked to him from the other side of the room. "She wants to see you Jerry. She just won't admit it," Murphy said sharply. "I can tell from experience that there's a part of her that..."

"What!" Jerry took a Gatorade out of the refrigerator and slammed the door shut. "How do you know this, Brown?"

"I saw her today."

"Ah. Jeez, _Brown_!" Jerry slammed the bottle down on the counter and leaned forward.

"I just happen to run into her, _I didn't search her out_, or have her followed, _Gold_! I had the opportunity to say something and I took it! I see how _tormented_ you've been over this! _I hate_ to see that! I couldn't just let it pass by! I had to go for it!"

"You just _happened_ to run into her!" Jerry looked up at her and gestured with his drink.

"She's sort of...dating... Miles."

"Sliverberg! Oh great! _No wonder_ she won't see me." Jerry laughed. He opened the bottle and took a drink.

"She had _your_ cigarette case, Jerry. I mean why would she…"

"Wait? My what?" Jerry put the bottle down on a counter and walked towards Murphy.

"Did you ever have a sliver cigarette case?"

"Yeah..."

"With your monogram on it?"

"It was a gift from my mother? So, what?"

"She _carries_ it around with her, Gold! Miles said it's her most _prized possession._ That means something, Gold! I know it does. If you'd _just go_ see her _one more time_ I know..."

"Brown, I did that! I need to do this on my own terms! I… I.. You know what the _real problem_ here _is-_"

"-Yeah! You're afraid to show the world the _real you_. _Why is it_ you can't put down this act for one moment for anyone else _but me_! If you can't be vulnerable to your _own daughter_ who then! _No one_ knows you more than I do! _Why_ shouldn't I talk to her on your behalf?"

"You are _so_ wrong!" Jerry avoided with his body and then turned back at Murphy. "_And_... who says she'll believe _you_ when she won't _even_ listen to me..."

"Jerry, I'm the _women_ American trusts…" Murphy said, as if it was common knowledge.

"Oh! And I'm just some _hack_ with a microphone…" He gestured out with both of his hands.

"Jer, that's not what I meant! And you know it!"

"Look! I'll tell you what's really going on here, _you_ don't trust me!"

"What? Where did that come from? Of course I trust you - I'm in a _relationship_ with you!"

"Really? Sometimes I don't know."

"_What_ _are you talking about, Gold_?"

"You _officiousl_y don't want to be here!" Jerry began to pace towards the door. "That's been _apparent_ ever since you got _here_!" He turned and looked at Murphy. "Why _are_ you here, Brown?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yeah, in body maybe, but your _minds _still off in Washington..."

"Don't give me that! This has been _very hard_ for me and I'd appreciate some _respec_t for my _feelings_ _here_-"

"Let's look at the evidence!" Jerry gestured with his hands. "There's the fact that I had to _pull you_ up here _kicking_ and _screaming_, I think you can still see your claw marks _up_ Pennsylvania Avenue. Or how about _every time_ I come into _this apartment_ it becomes _more_ and _more_ like - I don't know your house in _Georgetown_..."

"It is my fault I have classic tastes!"

I just _wonder _why the hell you decided to come with me! You're _officiously_ not happy here. Am I right, huh! Huh?" There was a pause. "Just tell me, Murphy…" He paced and then looked at her. "Well, I guess I got my answer didn't I!"

"There's more to this, Jerry, it's not _just_ you!" Jerry shook his head and waved Murphy off, as he sped past the door. Murphy walked forwards and yelled at Jerry down the hallway. "It's not always about you, _Jerry_! I have needs too, you know!"

Jerry left Murphy alone, as he grabbed his keys off the table in the hall and slammed the front door. Murphy heard the door slam and lowered her head, taking a deep breath in disgust. Was this really all worth it?

* * *

_All is fair in love; love's a crazy game. Two people vow to stay, in love as one they say. But all is changed with time, the future none can see. The road you leave behind, ahead lies mystery. But all is fair in love, I had to go away A writer takes his pen to write the words again That all in love is fair All of fates a chance, its either good or bad I tossed my coin to say in love with me you'd stay. But all in war is so cold, you either win or lose. When all is put away, the losing side I'll play. But all is fair in love; I should have never left your side. A writer takes his pen to write the words again. That all in love is fair. A writer takes his pen to write the words again. That all in love is fair_

**All Is Fair In Love & War ~ Stevie Wonder**

* * *

**ACROSS TOWN**

Miles was awoken from his sleep a little time after Murphy was awoken from hers. He looked around his apartment and heard the faint sound of Motown music coming from the other room. He looked around in his blind gaze and noticed Rachel was not beside him. He squinted and took his glasses off the nightstand next to his bed.

Miles walked into his living room, which was dimly lit by a halogen in the corner and another around the entertainment system, where he saw Rachel standing over the entertainment system, swaying back and forth to the music, as she sorting through a box of cassette tapes. A box he thought had been hidden in the closet. She was bopping her head and lip syncing to the music dressed in a blue silk robe.

"Rachel?" Miles yawned and scratched the back of his head.

"Where did you get these Motown tapes, Miles?" She showed Miles a cassette tape. "I never saw these before." Rachel herself was wearing glasses and they slid a bit down her nose.

"Murphy gave them to me." He said in a daze. "What are you doing, it's late?"

"She has great taste in music." Rachel looked back in the box and pushed her glasses up her nose.

"Rachel, what's wrong?"

"I can't sleep." She picked up another tape and looked at it will owe. "Oh, my mother used to play this one on her record player all the time." Rachel sprung up and replaced the tape in the player with another.

"Rachel, it's two in the morning." Miles wrapped his arms around Rachel's waist.

"Go to bed. I'll be there." She turned her body so she was facing him. Rachel started to sing along with the music.

"You know normal people when they can't sleep read a book, watch TV." He kissed her and walked away, as Rachel lifted the box onto the ground and sat in front of it.

"Murphy gave you all these tapes?" Rachel looked in the box in amazement.

Miles laughed and walked closer to Rachel. "From the day Murphy and I starting working together she was _constant_ about it. Making sure I knew everything about Motown, all that music from the sixties. It was like her one _unrelenting_ goal. Well, that and making all my waking, and _un-waking_ moments a living hell! When I first met her, you know what the first question she asked me was? Not what my background was or where I went to school. _No._ She asked me if I knew who _the Shirelles were_. And the _Ronettes_ and the _Delfonics_. But hey, it's because of her I knew that the Marvelette sang _Walking In The Rain_."

"The Ronettes."

"What?"

"The _Ronettes_ sang _Walking In the Rain_. The Marvelettes sang _Mr. Postman."_

"Oh." He pushed his glasses up his nose. "Wait, how do you know all this?"

"Some people have eclectic tastes, _Miles_. Besides, I told you, from my _mother_."

"Oh. Makes sense."

"Miles?" She paused and looked at him. ""Do you trust Murphy? I mean _I know_ you trust her as a journalist, but as a person? Do you trust her opinions? Her judgment?"

"Oh, I didn't mean to make it sound that way. Sure we butted heads, but Murphy is one my most trusted friends. Why so concerned about Murphy?" Miles asked, putting his hands in his pajama pockets.

Rachel stood up and put her arms around Miles. "Oh, just wondering." She leaned in and gave Miles a long kiss. "

"Murphy doesn't just warm up to just anyone – give it time. I know how much you want her to like you. But I don't want you to be disappointed if -"

"Go to bed, I'll be there soon." They parted and Miles walked back to bed.

Rachel waited a moment in the shadow of the music and the room. She looked like she was trying to decide something, as if she was stuck between two pathways. She walked over to the table next to the couch and wrote a note on the small pad next to the phone. She walked over to a desk next to the door and pulled out some tape. She taped the note to the front door, grabbed some clothes off a chair and disappeared into the back halls of Miles' apartment. The note read: I went out, be back later.

* * *

**MURPHY & JERRY'S APARTMENT**

It took Murphy another hour to get to sleep again and she had only been in a deep sleep for what seemed like a few seconds when she was awaken by a sound.

"Jerry?" Murphy sprung up from her slumber and looked around quickly, like a fox, trying to figure out what had taken her from her deep REM sleep. It was the door intercom and even though it didn't have the worst sound in the world it bothered Murphy for other reasons. She looked at the clock and it read past three a.m.. Murphy's feet tripped towards the door and she pushed the talk button. "What is it Danny!"

"This is Tony, Ms. Brown. Danny works during the day."

"Oh, yeah. Yeah. If it's Jerry just send him up." She walked away from the buzzer, but it rang again.

"What?" She hit the talk button again and then the listening button.

"No, Ma'am. It's a woman. She says she needs to see you. I told her it was late, but she threatened me if I didn't ring you up."

"Is she blonde?"

"Brunette."

Murphy thought for a moment. "Ok. Send her up." Murphy began to walk away again when the intercom buzzed again.

"There has to be another way to do this!" She pushed the listen button this time. "What?"

"She says she won't come up?"

"What!"

"She says she wants you to come down. And _alone_. Ms. Brown."

Murphy watched out of the elevator into the lobby, still in her robe and pajamas. She crossed the beige marble floor towards Tony's desk and the door.

"I tried to tell her, Ms. Brown..." Murphy waved him to stop.

"Rachel?" Murphy questioned, as the girl, who looked like she was dressed in blue workout clothes and sweats, turned and looked at Murphy. It was not the person Murphy had expected to see.

"Murphy?"

"What are you doing here?" Murphy walked closer to her and the door until she was in the center of the lobby.

"I thought we could have our talk?"

"Now? You want to talk now! It's _three_ in the morning!"

"I need to have that talk _now,_ Murphy! I've been doing a lot of thinking." She began to pace the floor. "And if I don't talk to you _now_ - I might just come to my senses and not want to do it at all, but if you don't want to I'll just go..." She went for the door.

"No. Rachel, wait!" Rachel stopped and turned towards Murphy.

"Come on upstairs. I'll find us something to drink."

"Nooo." She shook her head. "I can't go up. I don't want to see him. Not yet. Not 'till I've talked with you first." She folded her arms close to her chest.

"He's not there, Rachel."

"He's not? No. I don't want him coming in on us."

"Ok." Murphy was exhausted and not happy by the situation, but her instincts were telling her she had to do this. "Ok. There's a diner around the corner. I'll get dressed and meet you there."

* * *

**A LITTLE LATER**

Murphy walked into the twenty four-hour diner. By the time she had gotten there it was a little after three-thirty. She had to of course call Eldin to watch Avery and for some reason she couldn't find any socks that matched. Finally, surmising that it wasn't possible to come out of the laundry with an even pair of matching socks, Murphy decided to throw caution to the wind and wear one blue sock and one black sock. The diner was small, but with almost no one in the place it looked much larger than it had when Jerry and Murphy had their breakfast in the mornings. Murphy looked around and noticed Rachel sitting in a booth next to the window, about three booths from the door. Murphy made her way to the table and slid into the booth across from Rachel. They smiled at each other awkwardly.

"So." Murphy eyebrows shot up.

"So," Rachel continued, as there was a short pause.

"I'm still not sure why I'm here?"

"Me either. But why don't we order and we'll see what happens? I'm starving." Rachel pushed her menu to the center of the table.

"Sounds good."

Rachel motioned for a waitress at the counter, who made her way towards them.

"What can I get you?" said the young girl.

"Well." Rachel perked up a bit. "Crystal is it?" Rachel looked at her nametag. "Great. Well, Crystal my friend and I have some very important things to talk about - so, _it's ok_ if you don't come over every once in a while and ask us how we're doing. It will be understood. Anytime we need _refills_, more food, and I do foresee that happening, we'll call you. I will have a hamburger. Well done. French-Fries. On a separate plate. And honey mustard if you have it? Murphy?" She looked at Murphy. "Oh, I'm sorry are you ready?"

Murphy looked at Rachel with a look of "unbelievable" on her face. It was uncanny. "Hamburger and fries also. But no mustard. " Murphy handed the women the two menus.

"Anything to drink ladies?" Crystal questioned.

"Tea please. Chamomile and honey." Rachel looked at Murphy

"Blackberry and I'll just have sugar." The waitress walked away and Rachel ran her fingers threw her hair and scratched the back of her head with her thumbnails, just like Jerry. Murphy shook her head and smiled.

"It's uncanny?"

"What is?"

"You're _just _like him."

"I _am_ not."

"There it is. That _denying_ temper."

"I am _nothing _like him!"

"I think your more like him then you'd care to admit. I think that's what scares you about him."

"You are **so** wrong!"

"There it goes again…"

"Stop it!" Rachel switched the places of her fork and spoon out of nervousness. "Ok." Rachel looked up at Murphy. "And how do you think you know so much about me, Murphy?"

"Because, I _was_ you. I still am in a way. Take it from me. _Don't wait_ 'till your forties to try and start a relationship with you parents because that road is filled with _too many regrets_ and _too lates_. I know. I still don't have the best relationship with my father, I try, but I all these issues-"

"-From the past come up-"

"-They get in the way. I know they shouldn't be there. But they still are."

"Yeah." Rachel understood that Murphy wasn't just doing this as her father's girlfriend, but as a woman who knew what she was going through.

"Don't wait until it's too late, Rachel. You'll regret it. Trust me."

"I understand what you're saying, Murphy, but from what I'm guessing you grew up with your father. You got to know him; you know what you're expecting. And right now from what I know I don't trust _him_."

"Yes. But that was _over years_ that I learned not to trust him. You really don't know Jerry yet. Just give him time." Murphy made a face. "Ok. This is not helping. But then that's why we're here, _right_? _For me_ to help you better know you father." Murphy leaned back in her booth. The waitress came over and placed the women's tea in front of them. "Understand the man behind the façade. Yup. That's why we're here." Murphy stopped and got a look of fear on her face. "How the hell am I supposed to do that!"

"I don't know, Murphy? This was your idea!"

"Ok. I can do this… Here we go."

"Ok. I'm listening." Rachel leaned back in the booth, as there was a long pause. "Maybe you could start with some of his good qualities?"

"Good qualities… Good qualities…" Rachel tried to interrupt." No, I'll think of them." She waved her hands.

"Murphy, I came here because I trust you, because Miles _trusts you_. Because, when I was a kid there was no one _I looked up to_ more than you. So, the fact that you claim to love my father is the only reason I'm here. So, why don't you start from there?"

"You're right. _You're right_! "Murphy took a sugar packet from the table and shook it, regaining her confidence. "Let's just start at the beginning shall we." Murphy ripped the packet and pouring it into her tea. "And we'll just work our way from there." Murphy mixed her tea and took a small sip. "Well, let's see. When I first met your father I thought he was the most irritating, _egotistical_..."

"And this is suppose be help me, Murphy!"

"Can I finish…" Murphy leaned into the table. "_You know_, when someone is telling a story _you_ have to trust it's _going _somewhere!"

"Alright." Rachel leaned back.

"I'm trying to show you that I use to feel the same way about Jerry that you do. That's there's more behind the man…"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm listening."

"Good. So… If we go back it really all started one day at Phil's, a bar I hang out at. I was hanging out after a broadcast with everyone from the show when Jerry Gold walked in." Murphy shook her head slightly. "Never in my _wildest_ dreams did I _ever_ think that by the time I left the bar I'd have a _date_ with _Jerry Gold_."

Murphy told Rachel the story of hearing from Phil that day - about the only reason he let Jerry Gold into his bar. And it was because of the sizeable donations he made each year to _Meals On Wheels_, a charity that helped the homeless, causing Murphy to start to see Jerry in a different light. That when Murphy integrated Jerry on it the true Jerry came through, shocking her out of her skin, but that truly didn't happen until later. By the time, Murphy left Phil's she had been suckered into a date with Jerry - an idea that boggled Murphy's mind. She made every excuse not to show up, but her curiosity got the better of her. By the time the food came Murphy was on to the moment that changed her life forever, good or bad, it changed everything; the moment that truly could be described as the "jumping out of her skin" moment.

"We both decided it was ridiculous. That we would both go our separate ways. That we both learned a _little bit_ about each other..."

"Then what happened?"

Jerry's words, from ten years ago ran through her head. "That's a good plan. Or we could do this." It was a moment from the past so vivid Murphy could see it like it happened yesterday.

"He leaned in and kissed me. He just took me and kissed me. And. That was it. It felt right. It... From then on I saw him in a different light."

"Then what happened?" Rachel leaned in.

Murphy smiled, leaned back, and continued her story to a completely intrigued and captivated Rachel. She had in the palm of her hand and Murphy loved that.

By the time Murphy had gotten to 1991, just before Avery was born, they had almost finished their food and had just ordered a second helping.

"Wait! Wait!" Rachel laughed. "Wait a minute! Your ex-husband just proposed to you in the living room and _Jerry _shows up, on your _door step_, in a _penguin outfit_!" She gestured with her hands.

"I know! It's crazy. Only it was _whale_ outfit." Murphy took french-fries off of Rachel's plate and dipped them in the ketchup on her own plate, before taking a huge bite out of it, and throwing it into her month.

"Your drinks ladies." Crystal placed two drinks in front of the women.

"I can't believe you've lived in New York you whole life and you never had an egg Cream?" Murphy scolded her.

"Come on, Murphy, _finish_ the story." Murphy took the drink up and then stopped. "Where was I?"

"My father at your door in a _penguin_ suit!" Rachel lifted her drink to her mouth.

"A whale suit! It was a killer whale outfit. In fact…" Murphy smiled slyly. "He said he was a _sperm whale_." She grinned and leaned back in her seat.

"A whale outfit? Why do I keep doing that?"

"I don't know?" Murphy commented and Rachel outstretched her drink.

"Either way it's still a little weird." Rachel laughed "CHEERS!"

"Cheers!" Murphy did the same. They clicked glasses and both took a drink at the same time.

"Whoa. Who ever invented chocolate needs to get a medal or some kind - at least the Nobel Prize!" She laughed and took another swig.

"Every day after school I'd go into _Marty's_ soda shop, have an egg cream and play Aretha Franklin on the jukebox. Ooh. Those were good times! I wonder if this place has a juke box." Murphy looked around.

"Murphy! You can't tell a story like that and keep me hanging!"

Murphy looked at her knowing full well what she was doing. "So, you're interested." She lifted her eyebrows"

"Yes, Yes. Stop it! What happened?" Murphy smiled. "Why was he there and dressed..."

"In a whale outfit?"

"Yeah, yeah..."

"He wanted me back," she said in an unbelievable tone.

"No!"

"So, there I was stuck between two men I cared about. It drove me crazy. I was _this_ close to the edge." Murphy showed Rachel how small her sanity had reached by putting very little space between her thumb and for finger. "And then when I got _pregnant_…"

"Whoa, Whoa. Wait a minute! _Wait a minute_! This was when you _got_ _pregnant_? You're _not_ saying I have a brother are you?"

"No. No. _Jerry's not_ Avery's father." Murphy got quiet for a moment. "Avery's father is my ex-husband Jake - Jake Lowenstein. I was pregnant by the time Jerry got back from California. In fact, I got pregnant that afternoon before he showed up."

"You know…"

"I _know_."

"And then…"

"Jake left and Jerry stayed."

"He stayed?"

"Well, for about five seconds he left, and then he came back." Murphy smiled. "He said if I ever needed anything he wasn't going anywhere. And for a while he didn't..."

Murphy proceeded to tell Rachel every, well not every detail, good and bad, she could think of about the Jerry Gold she knew. Right up to the present: eleven years. After the stories where told, the food was finished, and the check was asked for, Murphy and Rachel leaned back in their seats. The sun was about to rise and during the period of time they spent together the two women shared laughs and got to know each other a bit.

"So, what are you going to do?" Murphy asked in a very serious manner.

"I really don't know, Murphy. Your story really changed...a lot of my thoughts. A lot! It's just a lot to absorb. Right now. Just don't pressure me, Murphy."

"I won't. But let me tell you this…"

"Murphy?"

"Ok, I'll shut up. But only because I care deeply about Jerry and Miles and therefore you - that and I'm really tried. God, what time it?" Murphy looked around for a clock. "I haven't stayed up this late… Well, since I was drinking. Of course, then I had no real concept of time, only how many drinks it took me to make it through the day." Murphy didn't notice it but Rachel got a bit nervous. "You're going to have to tell Miles."

"I know."

"When?"

"I have to go to Chicago for two days for an interview. I'll do it when I get back."

"Do you know what you're going to say?"

"No, Murphy. I don't see what the big deal is? So, my father happens to be someone Miles doesn't _exactly_ like. We're all adults here. I think you're over estimating Miles reaction to this. It's not _that_ big a deal."

"Ah, huh." Murphy did not agree.

"It's not, Murphy!"

"Just remind me of that when we all congregate together, in two days, at the cardiac ward at Lenox Hill Hospital."

"Can we talk about something else, please?"

"Oh, sure. So, you looked up to me when you were growing up, huh?"

"Yes, Murphy," she stressed. Rachel was now a bit embarrassed at the revelation.

"So, what was it my _crack_ reporting, my on camera style..."

"No, you reminded me of my mother."

"Oh." Murphy wasn't happy with Rachel's answer.

"No, Murphy, don't get me wrong, that's why I began to look up to you and still do. But when you're a kid there's always that _one thing_ that bridges you with certain things in your life. For you, it was when my mother died."

"Oh. I see." Murphy voice was serious.

"I wanted to be a reporter so _badly_ and there was you_ - _doing everything I wanted to… be. _The top_ of your profession. Then one day I was reading this article on you, I think it was Esquire. You had just gotten out of Betty Ford…"

"You were reading Esquire! What were you eleven?"

"I was always smart for my age. Anyway, I read about your struggles - and it was through that that I saw this strong woman I wanted to be. I really admired you for that, Murphy."

"I never saw myself as a role model to young kids. I never made myself out to be one. I'm not always the best example."

"But that show's your human, Murphy. People like that…"

"That would make me _extremely human_ then. Rachel let me ask you a question? I never thought so, but now...in the corners of my mind I wonder... if when I got pregnant..."

"If it caused me to want to go out and get pregnant myself? Murphy, for god's sake! If anything it showed me how _stupid_ you could be!" Murphy was caught off guard at what she saw as in insult. "I mean if you, _Murphy Brown_, highly paid, smart, professional women could make a mistake like that then there _defiantly_ wasn't _much luck_ for me and Bobby Kaminsky in the back of his Buick Skylark. If anything you _stopped me_ from making a foolish mistake. _You showed me_ I was human. That I didn't know everything. I mean it was really ridiculous when people criticized you for that! Because - yes _I_ - a fourteen year old girl - who has to ask her _grand-parents_ for the one dollar she gets as an allowance, is going to compare herself to a _rich_, _forty-two year_ _old_, shiska woman with her own network show. Please! When I would show kids my age your photo, almost all of them thought you were one of _Charlie's Angels_! Except with that one guy who kept insisting you with Diane Sawyer! You know there are _way_ just too many of _you_ blondes on the networks. What? Do they make you all share the _bottle_!"

"So, is that why I reminded you of your mother because I was strong willed and human?"

"That and the alcoholism." Rachel slid a french-fry in her month.

"What! Wait. _Your mother was an alcoholic_? Jerry never told me this!"

"What did he tell you?"

"Nothing really. Just that she was in a car accident. A drunk driver - Ahh." Murphy got it. "I just assumed…"

"She said she was going to check herself into to rehab the next day. She promised. When I read that article, Murphy, I guess I saw what would have happened to my mother when she got out. I'm sorry. I really shouldn't be telling you this."

"No. It's ok." Murphy smiled. "Come on. It's late. Let's get out of here."

"Yeah. Jerry must be getting worried about you." Rachel got up, as Murphy tried to smile, but it just came out bitter sweetly.

* * *

Baby, Baby, sweet Baby  
I didn't mean to run you away.  
It was pride on my lips.  
But not in my heart  
To say the things that led you to stray.  
But ah, me.  
Hear me now  
(hear me)  
I don't know what I'm gonna do.  
(hear me)  
Got to get you back somehow.  
(hear me now)  
I'm praying.  
Take me back,  
consider me please  
If you walk in that door,  
I can get up off my knees  
I've just been so blue.

**~ Aretha Franklin ~ Since you've been gone**

* * *

**TWO DAYS LATER**

The elevator dinged and Murphy Brown walked off, she held onto her purse strap with one hand and an arm full of research in another. She was late, she was irritable, and she was Murphy.

"Well, hello, Murphy." Kay greeted Murphy with a great deal of surprise. She came up beside Murphy.

"Hi, Kay." Murphy, in her own world, continued her walk to her office. "What are you doing here?" Murphy dropped her large stake of papers onto her already over packed desk with a thud and a sigh.

"I have an office here now. I also have a final meeting with Stan about my show. I don't even want to go in there anymore. This is going to have to be our _fifteenth_ meeting. I've already complemented everything on that man except his under shorts. Do you think telling a man he'd look good in both briefs or a boxers is just _suggestive enough_ to be flattering, but not enough to come off as a come-on?"

Murphy began to pluck off a slew of pink phone message memos that had been taped to her desk lamp. She looked at each one not happy with their results. "Where is my secretary?"

"Well, after they got her out off _that ledge_ did you really think she'd come back to work so soon?" Murphy gave Kay a look. "Murphy, what's wrong?"

"I always act like this, Kay, where have you been for the last _five years!" _Murphy tried to keep herself busy.

"Murphy?"

All Murphy could think was how the hell Kay did this – be so right with very little information. "Kay, I've been going out of my mind! Jerry walked out about two nights ago and I haven't seen him since! I'm starting to think he's just not coming back at all." She got serious for a moment and avoided Kay's eyes.

"What happened?"

"What always happens - we had a fight!"

"I'm sure it's fine. Did you try him at work? Men never go far if they have a job and couch in their office."

"His Sunday broadcast was preempted this week, so he didn't have to be there all weekend. I called his secretary this morning just to make sure he was alright and she says she hasn't heard from him either. That's what she _says_." Murphy finally looked at Kay. "I swear, Kay." Murphy was surprised by everything she was about to say. "It's _not_ like we haven't _been through_ this _before_. This time it just feels different. In different respects."

"I wonder why?" Kay asked the question she already knew the answer to.

"It's like I have some sort of _relationship form_ of _Alzheimer's_. _Doomed _to repeat the same mistakes _over_ and _over_ again." Murphy looked at her watch. "Oh, I have to be in editing." Murphy grabbed a tape off her desk and went for the door.

"Murphy, are you going to be alright?" Kay was concerned.

"Of course, Kay. Aren't I always!"

"I suppose." Kay walked to Murphy and faced her near the door. "But what would you do if he doesn't come back?"

"Kay, I'm _done_ talking about this!"

"Alright." Kay let up, like she always did, when she knew something was sensitive to Murphy. She knew letting it be would leave more of an impact on Murphy, but she still had on final comment to make.

"Murphy, did you ever think that reason it feels different this time is because your _feelings_ for Jerry are different this time?"

"Different from what, Kay?"

"You tell me?"

"God, Kay, you're worse than one of those magic eight balls." Murphy walked out the door and then stopped. "Oh, and Kay." Murphy turned and looked at her. "If you see Miles today. Do me a favor? Just be extra nice to him today. He's gonna need it." Murphy then sighed to herself. "Where all gonna need it."

Kay waited a moment before leaving the office satisfied she had served her purpose.

* * *

**MIDTOWN**

Jerry walked out of the GE building, which housed his office. He lifted his hand up to block the sun from his eyes and he stretched his back. Sleeping on the couch in his office all weekend was not the best idea, but it was all he had. He adjusted his tie and put on his jacket, taking in the fresh air. Then Jerry noticed something. It was Frank. In the same place he had seen him the last time, across the street from his building. In fact, he even heard that Frank had been spotted in the building on a few other occasions during the week. That's how he knew that Frank had been in New York, among other reasons, for so long.

He watched Frank talk to a man across the street. It infuriated Jerry that Frank hadn't contacted Murphy, because he knew how much it meant to Murphy and what it was doing to her. Just like Murphy hated to see Jerry tormented by not seeing his daughter, Jerry hated to see Frank do the same thing to Murphy. Frank and the man shook hands and parted ways. Frank pulled his back pack on his left shoulder, towards his neck, and began to cross the street in the middle.

Jerry furrowed his brow and called out to Frank in his most callous voice, "Hey, _Fon_tana!" Jerry proceeded to work towards him, as Frank caught Jerry's eye and tried to pretend he hadn't seen him.  
Frank pulled down his baseball cap over his face and tried to speed walk onto the pavement towards Rockefeller Plaza, and away from Jerry. "Hey!" Jerry followed Frank, at an equal fast walk, catching up with him, as they each reached the Plaza.

"I know that's you, Fontana!"

Frank stopped and looked off to the side, unhappy with his predicament. He turned to Jerry and smiled in his most fake way. "Jerry."

"Funny seeing you here, Fontana? Aren't you supposed to be _living it_ _up_ in Long Island with the Baldwin brothers, hugging trees and singing _cum-by-ya_?"

"I'm in town doing some business, now if you'd excuse me." Frank turned around, but Jerry walked around him and blocked his exit.

"You _know_… One _would think_ I would have heard that you were in town from _Murphy_? _But_ you know, she never mentioned it."

"I just got into town. I haven't had time to call her. And why am I explaining this to you!" Frank walked a step and Jerry walked in front of him again. Frank walked back a bit and rolled his head and neck. He looked very uncomfortable.

"Really? Because, I saw you around here about three days ago..."

"I don't need to explain my actions to you! You know you have some _nerve…"_

"You do when it concerns Murphy. What's with you Fontana? Are you _so afraid of me_ you won't see your best friend!"

"I'm _not_ afraid of _you_. I'll call her. I've been…"

"You've been in town for two weeks! And don't try to deny it, Fontana, I heard about your little deal with Simon and Schuster. From what I've heard you've been in town, for what? A week now, negotiating it?"

"How long has Murphy known?" Frank said concern.

"I haven't told her." Jerry rubbed his face and looked away.

"What! I'd think this would be something you'd be dying to run and tell Murphy about..."

"It would break her heart, Fontana! I won't do that!"

"No, you're just afraid she'll take my side. Or she won't believe you! There's always an angle with you..."

"Yeah, you know that's what it is!" he said with sarcasm. "Because, I couldn't actually _care_ for the woman of anything right, _Fontana_?" He paused for a moment. "Listen Font...Frank." Jerry looked around, as he searched for his words carefully. His tone was now calm, "Just call her _ok_. Don't let me stand in the way of your friendship with Murphy. I don't come with the deal, Fontana. _I don't matter_." He gestured with his hands. "It's Murphy that matters. And I know that's something we both agree on. Don't be _stupid_." Jerry put his hands in his pockets and walked backwards. "Just call her, Fontana." Jerry looked at his shoes and turned around. A large wind blew by and Frank watched Jerry walk off, as he strained to comprehend what he had just witnessed.

* * *

_Ain't not sunshine when she's gone_

**_~ Otis Redding_**

* * *

**BLACK ROCK: CBS HEADQUATERS**

Kay walked out of the conference room next to her office with a sad look on her face. She walked over to her secretary and handed her list of names.

"I need an appointment with everyone on this list for tomorrow morning. And see if you can get the top name in my office tonight. I hear he's leaving town." Stan walked out of the office behind her. "Are you sure you won't reconsider, Stan. I really think Rachel Margolis would be perfect..."

"How many times do I have to tell you this, Kay. NO! She's too controversial. All I need is for that _temper_ of hers to go off one day and ten thousand dollars' worth of equipment go down with her. It's too risky. Sure she's good-looking; I mean who wants to get the news from _a dawg_. The news is _depressing_ enough. Her personality is too risky. We don't need that kind of publicity."

"What about Murphy? You keep Murphy around…"

"Murphy Brown is an _institution_. She came around years ago, in a different time. And now she's a star – so, she can get away with it all! Today everything is trickier. We just can't take a _change_ on someone like her!

"I think it's worth the risk, Stan. I have a feeling about this kid. Let me take care of her? I'll make sure to keep an eye on her. I mean you said you loved her report."

"Yeah, I did. Who produced that thing? I like what they did. Now, that's a person I wouldn't mind you hiring?"

"And she produced the whole thing on her own Stan. I need that on my show. Someone who's a go-getter, who knows what they want-"

"-And young, she'll work cheap. I like it!"

"Ahh, I knew you'd come around Stan." Kay winked at him and bobbed her head. "So, what do we say?" Kay opened the note pad around her neck and took the pen in anticipation to write. "Who should we take off the list, humm?" Kay was faking the fact that she knew which name she wanted to take off the list. "How about Tawny?"

"No. No one goes. You can hire that girl to do whatever she did on that story. Nothing else. Off camera, but not _on_."

"What are you saying, Stan? You want me to offer her a job as a segment producer? I can't do that..."

"Yeah, that. You can have her be that assistant you wanted. Two jobs and one salary. I'm a genius I tell you. Wow! Look at the time. I have to get going!" Stan looked at the wall behind Kay.

"But, Stan, there's no clock on that wall?" But Stan was gone.

"Well, that just _jams the crapper_!" Kay leaned into her secretary's desk.

* * *

**LATER THAT NIGHT**

Miles stood at his desk with a phone to his ear. It was after the broadcast, time to go home and forget the day away, before one last piece of business. Miles was equally happy that day because he knew Rachel was on her way home and he would see her that night.

"Miles?" Rachel knocked lightly on the door, as Miles hung up his phone.

"Rachel?" Miles eyes widened. "I thought I was picking you up with from the airport later?" He walked over to her with his arms stretched out. When he reached her he gave her a big hug and kissed her hello.

"I got an earlier flight."

"Great! Give me a moment and we can grab something to eat." Miles walked over to his desk. "How did the interview go?"

"I don't think I got the job. Miles..." she sounded deflated.

"Oh, don't say that. I'm sure it went fine." Miles jotted some things down on a piece of paper. "Miles. I have to tell you something." She adjusted her purse strap nervously.

"Ok, what is it?" Miles walked over to the door, and towards Rachel, in anticipation to leave. "Miles, I think you should close the door."

"What! Why?" Miles voice gurgled and his eyes lit up.

"It's something important and private… "

"Oh, I see." Miles lowered his head like a child and closed the door as if he knew what was going to happen. He walked towards his desk with his head lowered and his fingers together.

"Miles…"

"It's ok, Rachel." Miles looked up with a sense of composure. "I think I know what you're going to say."

"You do?"

"You're pregnant aren't you?" Miles looked like he was trying to hold in his fright.

"No, Miles! I'm not pregnant!"

"Oh, god!" Miles jumped about. "Thank you." He laughed. "I was really afraid there for a second! Whoa!"

"Miles, it's something else. In fact, I don't think it's such a big deal. it's just I... Well. I'm seriously thinking, well _almost_ decided in fact, to try to re-connect with my father and..."

"Oh, Rachel." Miles took her by the shoulders. "That's wonderful. I'm so glad you've decided to take my advice. You'll see in the end that even if things don't work out - you'll be happy you at least got to know him. That you had the opportunity to try."

"Thank you, Miles. Maybe you could come with me and meet him sometime. In fact, you already know him, which was why I wanted to tell you first before it got out."

"I know him? How about that? Who is he?"

"Ok, don't be..."

"It's not Frank is it?"

"No, it's not Frank!"

"Because, the way he spread his _seed_ around, I wouldn't be too careful."

"Miles!"

"Sorry."

"You'll laugh when you hear this." They both laughed. "My father's Jerry Gold. Isn't that funny? I mean with Murphy..."

Miles opened his mouth and eyes in a half laugh. "What? I'm sorry, Rachel," Miles laughed. "I thought you said you father was _Jerry Gold_?"

"He is."

"Very funny, Rachel. Ha, Ha jokes on me. So, who is he really?"

"Miles, I'm telling the truth."

"Oh come on? _Your Jerry Gold's daughter_? Noooo! That would mean I was sleeping with Jerry Gold's daughter." Miles smiled and tilted his head to the side, the way he did when he was trying to be cocky. "And that wouldn't happen…"

Rachel took a gulp and reached her hand into her purse. Out of her purse she pulled a picture and gingerly handed it to Miles. Miles, still keeping his smile and head shaking, at what he sassumed was a still a joke. But it all changed when he looked at the picture.

"See." She pointed. "There's him and my mother in 1975." There was a short pause followed by a soft gurgling sound coming out from the young man's throat, which then became loader and loader.

"Miles? Breathe! Miles, breathe!" Rachel hit Miles, as a gust if air suddenly came through his lungs.

"This can't be happening! _This can't be happening_!"

"Miles, calm down. What is going on with you!"

"I'm dating Jerry Gold's daughter! _Jerry Gold's daughter_! I should have realized no one that _beautifu_l would want to _sleep with me_ unless she had major _problems_! I was hoping for maybe _manic depression_ or some sort of split personalities, anything but this!" He started to pace about the room, as if he was arguing with himself. "Not in my wildest dreams. _Oh, god_!" He jumped up. "It's like some bad dream! Only it's _not_! Its reality! And _I'm living in it_! Oh, g_od -_ my colon!" Miles looked like he was about to cry, as he ran over to his desk and began rummaging through it. "Where's my _Mylanta_?" Miles found it in his bottom draw and took a swig leaving a blue mustache on his face." He looked over at Rachel who had followed him to his desk. "_You lied to me_!"

"Miles? I never lied to you! I just didn't think it was _this_ important. I'm still me…"

"Yes _you_ did!" The last of his words stayed logged in the lower register of his voice. "You kept this from me because you _knew_ how I'd react! God! _God_!" Miles walked around the other side of his desk, jumping about a bit, and then continuing his conversation with himself. "When were you going to tell me, if he hadn't come along? When? When? On our wedding night...oh, god! What if we'd gotten _married_! And had _children_! My children would be the spawn of ..._Jerry Gold_! We'd look into the bassinet and there be a _devil child,_ only with _little red eyes_ and a two-day growth of beard! Ah, the _horror the horror_!" He took a swig of his Mylanta. "I'd have little Satan children. **_Gold _**_children_! Oh! They'd _taught_ me all my years 'till I was old and grey! 'Till all my spirit was taken from my body. I'll be referred to as that _strange Jewish_ ball of dust in the corner. Oh, god! Oh, god...I..." Miles looked around. "I…" He was alone in his office. "Rachel?" he called out despondently. Suddenly, the consequences of Miles little out bust came to him and his soul lost its passion.

"Hey, Hey there, old buddy!" Frank Fontana knocked on the door.

"I know, you said you'd be working tonight! But I'm not talking no for an answer this time. The games on in five and I've got brewskis." Frank dangled a six pack of beer into the doorframe. Suddenly, Frank noticed the look on Miles face. "Miles, what happen? You ok?"

"What have I done!" Miles let out a small gurgle of air and looked over at Frank before he fell to the floor. Frank followed his fall with his head and eyes.

Rachel ran up the elevator trying to hold in her tears. She was successful except for a small steam she cleared from her eyelids. She had run two flights down from Miles floor, so he wouldn't follow her, and then decided to take the elevator down the rest of the floors. What she hadn't realized was that it was Kay's floor.

Kay walked out of her office followed by Peter Hunt. He shook his head and smiled at Kay.

"At least consider the offer." Kay was heard saying to Peter.

"Yeah." Peter smiled. "I'll consider it."

"Great!" The two shook hands.

"Listen, Kay, do you ever see Murphy?"

"Occasionally. Why?"

"Could you give her this?" Peter took a scrap of paper out of his pocket. "I stopped by her office and she wasn't there." He handed Kay the paper. "This is where I'm staying, and the second number is my voice mail. Tell her I should be back in New York in a week."

"Will do. Have a safe trip, Peter."

"Thank you. Nice meeting you, Kay." Peter walked away with his hands in his pockets, as Kay watched him walk away with much delight.

Peter walked over to the elevator and stood next to Rachel. The two caught each other's eye and gave that polite I don't know you look. Then just as Rachel was about to recognize who Peter was Kay recognized Rachel.

"Rachel?" Rachel turned around and noticed Kay. "I was just going to call you? Do you have a minute?"

"Sure." Rachel mustered up a smile.

"Why don't you come in my office and we'll talk." Kay opened the door for Rachel. Rachel walked into Kay's office, followed by Kay who then closed the door behind her.

Murphy sat at her desk in her office. The only light that eliminated the brown laden room was her desk lamp. She was trying to get some extra work done before her broadcast next week and with working on the News each night her time was limited. Plus, with Eldin and Avery gone for most of the night she didn't want to be in that apartment alone. Murphy stood up from her desk and looked out her large window onto the New York skyline. She brought her hand to her neck and tried to relieve some of the tension. She took off her glasses, threw them on the table, and rubbed her eyes with a few of her fingers, before yawning. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Murphy was surprised by the sudden noise.

Murphy opened the door to find Jerry standing there, finally after two days. But before Murphy could lash a word out, Jerry grabbed her, from the back of the head, and kissed her passionately. Apparently, Jerry had missed Murphy as much as she had missed him. Murphy kissed Jerry back, as if she had been waiting forever for that kiss. Jerry pulled away leaving Murphy's lower lip last, leaving Murphy astonished by the whole event.

"I'm sorry…" He leaned his head against Murphy's head.

"No. You don't have to..."

"I missed you."

"So did I." Murphy leaned in and kissed Jerry this time.

Jerry stroked the side of Murphy's face. After a beat Jerry walked further into Murphy's office and started to kiss his favorite part of Murphy's neck, as Murphy slid her hands threw his hair. It was then that Murphy shoved the door shut with her other hand.

As they made their way to Murphy's desk it was then that Murphy finally was able to recognize, to herself, that she was in fact, in love with Jerry. She always told herself she was, or had been, but she never really gave herself a moment to absorb it into herself. Because, if she did, that meant she needed him; she didn't want to need anyone but herself.

And of course everything was easy to forget as Jerry and Murphy, again, reacquainted themselves with each other - Jerry with Murphy's neck, her thigh and the outer part of her knee. Murphy with his soft subtle kisses that seemed to linger on her skin, moments after they had moved on. Not that it all matter to Jerry because he could reconfigure Murphy's ever curves by memory. It hadn't been that long so the two fit into each other like an old shoe. They knew each other's every nuance and satisfaction like their own.

But it was now that they wanted to forgive and forget the past and exchange it for their present and their future. They were learning that just living in the present had its own advantages and disadvantages. And they weren't the only people who needed to learn that lesson.

* * *

**MEANWHILE:** _At The Metropolitan Museum of Art..._

Rachel sat alone in a far off section of an exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. She sat in the center of a large wooden settee in front of a large Whistler painting. It was the last night of an exhibit on loan from Washington DC. Rachel had always wanted to come see it, but hadn't had the time lately. She wanted to see the exhibit because one of her favorite paintings was on display. It was the painting that stood in front of her and it was the first time she had seen the painting in person.

She didn't really know why it first struck her. Maybe because the woman in the painting reminded her of herself or maybe it was its beauty. The painting was of a dark haired woman dressed in a kimono, looking over a few paintings in her hands, while similar paintings lay set about the floor. The name of the painting was called _Caprice in Purple and Gold_. Her tears appeared as if they would over flow her eye-lids, as Rachel tried not to breakdown in public.

"Excuse me? Are you alright?" Rachel turned her head to see Eldin Bernecky standing over her. Of course she had no idea who he was. All she knew was he seemed to be a sweet man with a sketch pad in one hand.

"What? Oh yes, I'm fine, thank you."

"You don't look fine?"

"Because, I'm not. I'm here because I thought this painting would give me some perspective. It's not working." She looked back at the painting.

"This one has to be my favorite, also. I love he's use of triangles and lines, but yet he rarely uses horizontal. Do you see that? You know his idea was based on musical forms. He felt that, like music, a painting didn't have to depict a particular person or event. That in the end composition, form and color were the most important elements. I don't know if I agree, but I understand what he is saying. See, I paint murals – so, in a sense, that theory sort of throws everything I'm doing _straight_ out the window..."

"I think it's the colors that first attracted me to it. That and the fact that she looks so elegant, so in control, but inside I don't think she is. She seems stuck, don't you think?" She looked over at Eldin "I'm sorry I tend to make up my own story when I see a painting. I don't analyze it or try to figure out what the painter was thinking. Although I find that equal fascinating."

"Art! Is what you make of it. Much like life."

"Yeah." She half smiled.

"But go on. I'd be curious as to what you see? I love how art can change through the eyes of others."

"Well… when I look at the painting I feel like she's stuck between two worlds. She's in the present, but also in the past. The past of the pictures, her dreams, the way life use to be. The purple and the gold. The purple of the past and the gold of the future. She want's now to be like it was before, but it can't."

"Yeah, I can see that," he said it as if he understood the meaning in life and the painting.

"Or, maybe it's just how I feel. It's funny. I don't know you, yet I feel very convertible taking to you?"

"I suppose I have that quality. God knows I get my ear chew off at the bone by some people. Are you hurt in some way? Can I help you out somehow?"

"No, No. I just have a very important decision to make. In many aspects of my life. But I have a feeling it really all comes down to one thing."

"Oh?"

"I'm on that... which fork in the road do I take - this will change my life - it's time to lean over that table and kiss the mouth of fate, type moments of… in my life."

"Ok."

"I feel like the girl in the painting..."

"I know someone in that same situation…"

"What did you tell her to do?"

"Well, I'm not one to give out advice... I notice things seem to turn out for the best. Like a great piece of art. Sure at first or at some times it might need some pushing in the right direction, but soon without any help - when you're not looking - it becomes this beautiful painting. Nothing like you thought it was going to be and yet more beautiful than if you had ever planned it."

"Yeah, nothing is turning out like I planned. I hate that!"

"See, you can't expect things. I never expect things. Therefore, I am always _pleasantly surprised_." Eldin gave a quick grin. "You're one of those people who think too much? I know someone who does way too much of that to"

"Excuse me?"

"Maybe, for once, you need to go with your heart. It may not seem right up here." Eldin pointed to his head. "But in the long run it works wonders down here." Eldin pointed to his heart.

"I feel like everything I thought I knew I don't know anymore. Everything that made sense before _doesn't? _It's like I've been thrown on my head."

"See, that's your head again, what does your heart say. Maybe you should take a lesson from the girl on the painting."

"The painting? But she's _stuck_. I don't want to be stuck."

"She may be stuck. I can see that. But, eventually, she'd be able to balance them both. Otherwise, the painting would be called Caprice _between_ Purple and Gold. She's in the _Purple _and the Gold." There was a pause. "I don't know your situation, but a wise person once told me, that it's not hard to leave what you think is a good situation, if you think that something even better is coming after it."

"What's your name? I don't even know your name."

"Eldin Bernenky. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Hello, Eldin, I'm Rachel Margolis" They smiled at each other. "Thank you, Eldin. I think I know what I need to do. In fact… What time is it?"

Eldin threw his arm out causing his shirt cuff to shoot out of the way so he could check his watch. "It's almost nine o'clock."

"What!" Rachel took hold of Eldin's wrist and looked at his watch "It can't be… Are those the apostles?" She looked closer.

"Yeah." Eldin smiled at the pride of his watch. "It's also shock proof and water proof."

"I may still have time…" She shot up. "Thank you... Eldin." She started to walk away, as she fumbled with her purse, but stopped and looked back at him. "Maybe we'll see each other again sometime." And she ran away.

Eldin sat there for a moment before Avery walked up to Eldin and sat down next to him.

"They're closing Eldin. Should we go?"

"Sure, Kid." Eldin got up and put his arm around Avery and they started to walk away. "How about we get some ice cream on the way home?"

"Sounds good." Eldin put his arm around the kid and they walked off together.

Frank and Miles sat on the floor of Miles office with their backs against his big black coach. Frank shook his head and pursed his mouth around a beer.

"Rachel is _Jerry Gold's_ daughter? Who would believe it?" He took another swig.

"_Not me_!" Miles snarled.

Frank glanced over at Miles who looked a mess, his tie undone around his neck and his glasses escrow on his face. "I just can't believe that _Jerry Gold_ could have a kid that looks like that!" Frank pondered it for a moment. "You know, did I tell you, I finally figured out who she reminds me of?"

"Who? And if you say Jerry Gold I'm hitting you over the head with this beer bottle."

"No." Frank shook his head. "Amy Madrid..." Frank said the name with a sense of the past.

"Madrid?"

"Marsinsky. Amy _Madrid_ Marsinsky. I met her when I first got to New York. She wore _tie tied_ shirts and _tight _jeans..."

"Why am I not _surprised_..."

"And one of the real loves of my life." Frank, in a way, was scolding Miles for the comment on his past love. "Now, that was a girl!" Frank nodded his head and took a drink of his beer.

"Madrid, Frank? Where do you meet these women?" Miles laughed at his comment and shook his head.

"It was where she lost _her virginity_. She called me Frank _Ford_ _Pinto_." Frank smiled. "I met her the first time I went to vote in nineteen-seventy-two. She was volunteering. She tried to _confiscate_ my button. She had Rachel's coloring. Not to mention that..." He looked at Miles. "_Body_ _of work_. God!" Frank began to remember fondly. "I loved her."

"What happened Frank? Did a guy named _Chris Cadillac_ take her away in his Ford_ Gremlin_? Ugg." Miles laughed from his throat and took another drink.

"We were together for about five years and then she went off to California to live on a commune or something. She broke my heart. Most women like her do."

"Ahh, I can't believe this is happening to me!" Miles took off his glasses and dug the edge of his palms into his eyes. "Oh, god, Frank." He fumbled with his words. "I said some _horrible things_…" Miles put his glasses back on his head and looked drearily at Frank. He pointed his hand, filled with a beer bottle to Frank, as if he was going to make a point but paused. "I don't know if this is the beer talking…"

"Miles, you had _half a bottle_!"

"But I think I love her. No… I know I love her. What am I going to do?" he gurgled.

"I don't know, Miles. I mean, you say you love this girl?"

"I know. It's just, every time I think of Rachel now I see _her body_, only with _Jerry Gold's_ head... Eww Eww." Miles filched at the image and so did Frank. "And I just can't seem to get over the fact that she lied to me Frank."

"She didn't _lie_ to you, Miles. She has _no _contact with the man! It'd be like me going up to ever girl I date and saying I was a _distance cousin_ of _Al Capone_. Why bring it up when you _feel_ it has no importance?"

"Are you?"

"No! Well, maybe." He shrugged it off. "If you care about this girl, Miles - if you love her, all of that _shouldn't matter_."

"I know it shouldn't, but somehow it does. It's hard. I'm so confused?"

"I don't know, Miles. I mean if Rachel is _Jerry's_ _daughter_ maybe Jerry Gold isn't that bad?" Frank filched at his own comment knowing the reply it would get.

"Not that bad? What's with you, Frank? This is Jerry Gold were talking about. _Jerry Gold_!"

"I know. I know. It sounds crazy. But yesterday I ran into him on the street and he demanded I call Murphy."

"Why? You haven't called her? He demanded?"

"No. And then there was that incident at Phil's. Of course he could have just been saying that? It's just..." Frank stopped and waved his idea off. "Ah, you're right, it's crazy."

"Frank, you've been here for a week! I figured _she'd be_ the first person you'd call."

"I know. And I kept picking up the phone and walking past her office and her apartment, but I wouldn't go in. I knew we'd get into an argument about _Jerry_ or run into him and I _just _didn't want to get into that. So, I just stayed away." Frank paused. "Pretty stupid, huh?"

"You're going to have to see her, Frank. She's going to find out you're here. And then you're in trouble." Miles looked at Frank. "Unless… you don't want to see her?" Miles was agog. "You do want to see her, don't you, Frank? Why don't you want to see Murphy?"

"Of course I want to see her! I'm going to see her. I know _now_ how foolish I was being. She's my _best friend_ and she's _in love_. She says… I should be happy for her," he stated like a question. "I miss her, Miles." Frank took a drink from his beer.

"I know what you mean…"

"Miles, if you love her you have to go after her. Tell her you're sorry. Beg her forgiveness. _Tell her how_ much she _means to you_."

"You're right, Frank. But it's too late now…" Miles took a swig of his beer.

"No, it's not!" Frank took Miles' beer out of his hand. "Go after her, Miles. Instead of _wallowing here_ in your _self-pity_ - you have to go out and _find her_! Tell her what you told me!"

"You're right, Frank!" Miles shot up and began scurrying about the room for his jacket, going one way and stopping and going the other way and stopping until it looked like he was playing a game of bumper cars with himself. "My jacket! Where's my _Jacket_!"

"On the couch, Miles."

"Yes, Yes. Ok. Ok." Miles took his jacket off the couch and ran for the door. Frank stood up, as Miles turned around.

"Frank…"

"It's ok. Go. Go. There's something I need to do myself." He smiled.

"Oh and, Frank, get rid of theses bottles, would you? You really shouldn't have alcohol in the building." Frank made a "what?" face, as Miles flew out, because he hadn't said anything before this.

* * *

**LATER**

Frank made his way down a couple of hallways to where he heard Murphy's office was. It was at the end of a long dark carpet laden hallway. Frank had turned a corner when he saw the door fly open. He was going to say something when he saw Jerry walk out, making Frank quickly hide behind a jetted wall leading to another hallway.

Murphy propped herself up against the door and wrapped her arms around Jerry. He kissed her, caressing his hand across her check. They looked into each other's eyes and Frank could only imagine what had just happened.

"I really am sorry, Jerry. I just thought…"

"I know what you thought. And I understand it."

"What time will you be home tonight?"

"I don't know. I have some work I need to catch up on. You?"

"Same." She smiled at him and Jerry leaned in for one last kiss goodbye. He took her hand and with his other hand pushed a strand of her hair away from her face. "Ah, I love you."

"And I love you." Jerry's eyes twinkled into Murphy's warm face and they parted.

And Frank saw something he hadn't seen before. In a way it was the truth. Or course, it wouldn't have been something Frank would have had the chance to see before – a private moment. Watching from his hiding place, event thought it was something he thought he had seen before; Frank seemed to see what Murphy had always been talking about. He didn't understand it, but he saw it.

Jerry was the first person to see Frank.

"Well hello, Fontana?" He smirked, as he zipped up his fly.

Frank was not pleased and it was a typical Jerry and Frank exchange with no real words, only emotions. Frank walked past Jerry who disappeared down the hallway.

Murphy was just about to close her door when she noticed Frank. Her eyes lit up. "Frank?"

"Hey, Murph!" Frank looked happy, yet embarrassed at the same time.

* * *

**AT THE SAME TIME**

Miles got off the elevator on the sixteenth floor. On his way out of the building, looking for Rachel, a security guard informed him that she had come up to see Kay Carter Shepley on the sixtieth floor, just a half hour before.

Miles noticed Kay come out of her office and lock the door. "Kay?"

"Miles?" Kay let go of her key, and because it was attacked to something, it swung back and disappeared under her layers of shirts. Kay and Miles had met before on small occasions to at least develop an acquaintance for each other. "You're here late?"

"I was told that Rachel Margolis came up to see you? You don't happen to know where she went."

"Sure, she's in her office..."

"Her office!" Miles smiled with pride. "Wow! That's great!"

"It's just down the hall…" Kay pointed to her left and went for the elevator. "Have a good night, Miles," she called behind her.

Miles walked down the hallway, looking at every door, until he found an open one and noticed Rachel un-packing some things from a box. He walked in tentatively, leaning in with his head first. Rachel was reaching towards a high shelve behind the desk when she noticed him. It was a small office. About the side of Murphy's first office at FYI, only this one had a window.

"Rachel?" Miles stepped in further with an unsure look in his eyes.

Rachel turned around in surprise. "Miles? How.."

"I heard you were here… Can I come in?"

"You're already in." Rachel left the book in her hand on the self and then walked over to a small box she had on her desk.

Miles walked closer to her. "You have every reason..."

"Ever reason! Every reason! Miles, you called me the devil! You..."

"Ok," he tried to calm her. "_Technical_, I called Jerry the devil, so really..

"Stop with the semantics, Miles! Did you think I wouldn't be upset? Did you think I'd just _welcome_ you back with open arms?"

"No, No, of course not. Rachel, I'm soo sorry. Just hear me out. I didn't mean what I said. I overreacted! It just came out."

"Yes, but you meant it! Those were _all_ things you meant…"

"About Jerry Gold! Not about you!"

"But you couldn't _distinguish_! Miles, you've known me, for what? A year now? You claim to _love me_? And then, because of _one_ disclosure of my DNA, you see me as some leper. That hurt, Miles. It makes me not trust you anymore."

"You can trust me, you can trust me! Just hear me out..."

"I mean, it makes me think about what you ever saw in me, Miles? I really am beginning to wonder that? It's really made me re-think a lot of things in my life. I mean, if I could misjudge you then maybe I've misjudged a lot of things in my life. Maybe that's why my life is in such a stand still? _Maybe,_ I need to rethink the way I do things? My path in life."

"What are you saying, Rachel? You don't mean you're actually decided to…"

"I'm going to go talk to him, Miles," she said with pride.

"Nooo. What? You can't? I mean..."

"_Watch me_, Miles…"

"You don't understand. You don't know him!"

"Either do you, Miles? I talked to Murphy. She told me some real eye opening things. And then the way you reacted. Maybe if I misjudged you, I misjudged him..."

"You can't listen to Murphy! He'll corrupt you; manipulate you, just like he did her! He _can't be_ _trusted, _Rachel."

"Well, right now I don't trust anything! And _especially_ not you!"

"He'll leave again, Rachel. Then where will you be?

"He's my father, Miles. And I want to get to know him."

"He'll just hurt again."

"I'm willing to take that risk."

"Sure, but is it worth it?"

"Well, we'll see. We'll see about a lot of things. All I know, Miles, is that I've been trying to go left all my life and it's not working. It's time I tried to see if I can get there from the right. I… I… It may not be what my mind is telling me is right, but lately that roads been leading me to a dead end. Some things got to change!"

"Rachel, what are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry when I'm upset I talk in metaphors." She ran her hand through her hair and scratched the back of her head with her thumbnails. "I'm changing my life, Miles! It may hurt at first, but it's all for the best." She seemed to be convincing herself. "Because, it's not going anywhere and maybe it's not _me_ that's the problem. _Maybe,_ it's the way I'm going about it. I'm thinking it out too much. _I'm_ _going with_ what I think is _right;_ because that's the way I thought I always wanted it. I have a goal, Miles. To be happy. To be the best! I have to be the best. And to be the best maybe I do it another way. I'm changing my direction." Rachel took a key out of her pocket and handed it to Miles."

"No." He walked away from it, as he whispered the words.

"It's really for the best." Rachel was holding back the tears.

"But I love you?" Miles voice was of a sad little boy.

"I love you too. But sometimes we have to let go of a good thing because we know it's just not good for us. I don't trust you, Miles." Her eyes began to tear up. "I love you. I do. But I don't trust you. That was the most important thing to me. Trust. That's what you promised me." She took Miles hand and dropped the key into the palm, folding his fingers over it. "I'd appreciate it if you'd drop my things off here. I'd rather not go and get them myself. I'll do the same with your things. Although, I don't think there are too many at my place." Rachel lowered her head and walked to the door and stopped. "Maybe a razor of something, a few ties..."

"No, wait! You can't do this! We can work this out! We can... So, everything in your life seemed to be going nowhere." Rachel looked at Miles - he looked like he was pleading for his life. "That doesn't mean… That doesn't mean you have to give everything up. I mean, look at this job! You did it! You're now an _anchor_ at a _major news _magazine. It's what you always wanted. You're doing it. Why change what works! Your instincts were right!"

"No, I didn't Miles."

"Don't give me that. You…"

"No, Miles. I'm not a co-anchor..."

"Ok, investigative reporter, you always liked that best…" He tried to grin.

"I didn't get the job, Miles!"

"I don't _understand_," his voice shrieked. "This office - I thought…"

"Kay offered me a job as a segment producer and I took it," she said with bravado.

"Segment producer? Rachel, you're _a reporter_! And a damn good one."

"Not anymore…" She looked away and back.

"What is going on with you, Rachel? Reporting is you dream?"

"No. Miles. _News_ is my dream. That's all I wanted. To be the best in _news_. And I _will _be the best. I'm just going about it a _different way_."

"No, this isn't you, Rachel? Something else is going on? Its Jerry, isn't it? See, I told you! Already he's manipulating you somehow."

"Miles, I haven't even talked to him yet!"

"But you said you always wanted to be in front of the camera! You didn't want to be like me! You wanted to be in the thick of things!"

"Some things aren't meant to be, Miles." Rachel looked like she was about to cry.

"So, you're giving up. Is that it?"

"No, Miles, I'm not giving up! I'm just doing what's best for me right now. I'm doing what's going to get to the top. To be the best. I'm going to get on that cliff and dive. I have to do what's best for me -in all areas of my life. I have to do what in the end will make me happy."

"You may see it that way." Miles voice became calm and serious. "But I just see this as an excuse. Just another _excuse _from being the real you. This isn't the girl I fell in love with. I don't know who this is? And yes, getting to know a _father_, who in the end will just destroy you again, is a bold move. And I do respect you for that. But this is not brave. You deserve to be on front of that camera, not behind it." He looked down and then up at her again, as he took a real stand. "But I would rather stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue at rush hour then see anything hurt you! And believe me, I'm not going to stand by and let you do this to yourself. Before I let _him_ do this to you. I will make you see the truth!"

"Get out, Miles."

"Rachel?"

"Get out, before I throw you out, Miles!" She held onto the door and pointed towards the hallway. Miles tried to plead, as Rachel pushed him out, but he knew he couldn't win. As he reached the hallway he turned around, for one last plea, only to have the door in front of him, bearing the word "Producer", slammed in his face. Miles was left dishevel and heart broken.

* * *

**BACK AT MURPHY'S OFFICE**

"God! Frank!" She gave him a huge hug. "Just the pal I wanted to see!" She let go of her embrace. "Come in! Come in!" Murphy motioned adamantly for Frank to enter her office. She closed the door behind her. "Wow. Frank. What a _great surprise_? When did you get in?" Frank tried to say something, but nothing seemed to come out. Murphy leaned on the side of her desk with a sly look on her face. "You should have called me to tell me you were coming?"

"Murph..."

"No matter, no matter." She waved her hands. "You're here now! I have a lot of work to do, but hell, that can wait. I've got it! Let's watch the game!" Murphy began to look around for her remote control. "Where is that remote control?"

"Murph. I need to apologize," he blurted it out.

"For what, Frank?"

"For not calling you when I got into town…"

"That's alright? When did you get into town?"

"Last week?"

"_Last week, Frank_?" She looked at Frank.

"It was a stupid thing to do. I was really being stupid..."

"Was it because of Jerry?"

"Partly. I made you that promise and I was having a really hard time keeping it..."

"But you're here now?"

"Yeah."

"Great!" She smiled "Now help me find the remote?" Murphy walked over to the mahogany wall unit that held the TV and felt around for it.

"You're not mad?"

"Why would I be?" Murphy grimaced as she squished her hand beside the TV. "Got it!" Murphy pulled out the remote and turned on the TV. "Hello! Sammy SOsa! HA!"

"I was in the same town as you and I didn't get in touch with you!"

"If you pushed this issue any further, Frank, I'm going to have to get mad."

"I just don't get it?"

"I think that's always been your problem, _Frank_."

"Funny," he said sarcastically.

"Frank, you're my best pal. Sure, it hurts that you were afraid to call me. But you're here now and there's one thing I've learned lately is to be thankful for what the present brings me. This is the _new me_." Murphy paused, as she seemed to be recalling another conversation she had sometime before. "Someone who can live in the _past_ and the present. Sim-u-_ltaneously_." But she digressed. "Of course if you plan on doing this again. I will have to kick your _fifty three-year ass_! Well, what's left of it…" Murphy took a peek at Frank's behind. "Frank, have you been to the gym lately?" she smirked.

Frank smiled. "Thank god. You had me worried for a moment!"

"Do me a favor?" Murphy pointed with her finger. "There's some popcorn in my bottom left hand drawer… You want to get some?" Murphy smiled and plopped herself down in one of the large black leather swivel chair. She spread her hands into the arms of the chair and got comfortable, spreading herself out.

Frank did what he was asked. "Hey, Murph? This is microwave popcorn, where are we supposed to cook it?"

"Look under the desk along the wall. The panel closest to my desk."

Frank did what he was told. "Hey, a microwave and a _refrigerator_?"

"All thanks to the New York boys upstairs. Even the TV." Frank stood up and looked at the large flat screen television, that was revealed by a panel in the wall unit, all by Murphy's push of a bottom. Murphy played with the button to show him how it worked. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"Wow! Look at that!"

"State of the art, Frank! _State of the Art_! This thing has so many _woofers_ I'm surprised it doesn't _bark at me_ and make me take it for walks." Murphy laughed at her own joke.

Frank shook his head and leaned down to start the microwave. "Wow! New York is great!"

"It is now," she whispered. "It is now." And she smiled at Frank.

* * *

**AT THE SAME TIME**

Jerry sat at his desk looking over some notes. He had a lot of research to read for his Sunday television show and he was behind. His tie was loose around his neck and he untied the remains of it before throwing it to the ground. He leaned over his work, engrossed in his reading, when there was a knock on his open door. Jerry lifted his eyes, off the page, to look towards the door. He was surprised to see any one at his door, at such a late hour. Everyone was gone for the day, but he was even more surprised to see Rachel, his daughter, standing in his doorframe. Jerry shot up, with the shock of seeing Rachel, who stood with her hand leaned up against his doorway. He shot up so fast his head hit his overhead desk lamp.

"Can I come in?" she questioned. Jerry rubbed his head in pain. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I? I can come back?" She started to go.

"No. No. Of course not."

Rachel walked in tentatively, as Jerry walked around the side of his desk towards her. Jerry stood near the window while Rachel stood a few paces from the door. They were close together, but still far apart. They both looked like they didn't know what to say.

"You're here? I'm shocked" Jerry cleared the silence.

"I'm a little surprised myself." She nodded her head awkwardly.

"I figured after our _last encounter_ you'd never want to see me again?"

"Yeah. I have to apologize for the way..."

"Don't, I _deserve it_." He noticed she was holding a plastic bag with a brown paper bag inside it. "What's with the bag?" Jerry put his hand in his pockets.

"What? I can't carry around a brown paper bag without a cloud of suspicion around it?"

"No. But when there a strange aroma coming from it… it kinda of sends a red flag up."

"It's Chinese food."

"A piece offering? Are we Incas?"

"I thought we could _talk over food_. I remember when you use to come to visit it was over food."

"It was?"

"You use to take me out for ice cream."

"I did? I don't remember?" Jerry put his hands in his pockets.

"Never mind." Rachel turned her head and rubbed her forehead, while she rested her hand on her left hip. "Look! I don't need a father. That's not why I'm here. I can take care of myself, thank you. But I do want to get to know you. So, I'm giving you a chance. But it's _a_ change, not a free ride, so don't abuse it!"

"Ok. Are you done?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I have a few ground rules myself? Or is this just something only you can do?" Jerry put out his hands, as if to ask for permission without asking for it. Rachel nodded her head. "Ok." He paused for a moment. "Here's what I have say." And Jerry got serious, "I may not remember things like _birthdays_ and where and when I use to take you for ice cream, but _I mean_ _well_. And I want to get to know you too." He paused and took a breath. "And I want you to get to know me. I just want you to _understand _that it doesn't mean _I don't care_. I guess what I'm saying is - I don't know how to be a father. But then I guess you just said you didn't want one." He paused looking for the right words. "Sentiment isn't my forte," he said with a vulnerable lilt  
to his voice.

Rachel gave Jerry an off center grin at his last comment for, based on her conversation with Murphy, and the  
tone to his voice, she knew his statement wasn't true.

"You're on." Jerry got that quiet sincere look in his eye that caused Murphy to fall in love with him. Rachel walked tentatively towards Jerry's desk. "Why don't we sit on the window sill, there's more room." Rachel walked over to the large windowsill, which in such a large office building looked more like an inside balcony it was so big, and placed the bag down on it. "I have a lot of papers on my desk and…"

Rachel noticed that Jerry had stopped making his excuse and was watching her. She looked over at him embarrassed and wondering what was going on. "What? _What_?" She leaned over the bag and looked over at him, as she pulled her hair away from her face.

"You… You're just...you look so much like your mother. It's uncanny…"

Rachel laughed. "Uncanny? You sound like Murphy." She hopped into the windowsill.

"You talked with Murphy? Recently, I mean?" He shook his head. "Is that why you're here?"

"Yeah, it is. It's one of the main reasons," she said to him straight.

Jerry smiled and looked off to the side thinking to himself. "Remind me to thank her." Jerry sat down on the other side of the Chinese food bag. Rachel smiled and rummaged through the bag.

"So, what do you want I have chicken and broccoli, or scrimp and lo mein?"

"Actually, I don't eat meat."

"Oh, I'm sorry." She looked up at him.

"It's ok. I'll take the lo mein. I'll just pick out all the _shrimp_."

Rachel handed Jerry a folk and his white case of food. Rachel and Jerry both opened their food and set it in front of them. Then simultaneously jetted out there arms, ran their fingers through their hair and scratching the back of their heads with their thumb nails. The exchange was then concluded with a release of air. Neither one of them noticed this because they were looking down at their food. They both started to eat in silence, for a moment, while they tried to figure out what to say.

"We should probably say something?" Rachel finally broke in.

"Yeah. Yeah." Jerry looked up and took a breath. "Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?" Jerry took a bite of his food.

"OK?" And then Rachel started to talk a little bit about herself, during all of which Jerry sat back and listened to attentively. Rachel stopped and started, unsure she was saying anything Jerry wanted to hear – she was wrong.

This only happened for about a minute, when Jerry seemed to have something surprising come through his brain and out his mouth. "Serendipity?"

"What?"

"Serendipity. That was the name of the ice cream place I took you too?" Jerry was surprised by the thought.

"Yeah? That was it." So was Rachel

"I can't believe I remembered that!"

"Yeah?" she laughed.

"You were saying..."

And Jerry and Rachel continued their conversation. They talked about themselves and soon transitioned into talking about innate things, like what bugged them, which ran into tangents of funny stories and events.

Of course, they didn't become best of friends that night. But it was the one night they began to trust each other and lay the groundwork for the future. They were no longer relying on the past; they let the future and the present play its own mind games on each other. They were letting it all stand for itself.

* * *

**MURPHY'S OFFICE**

Meanwhile, Frank was setting up the microwave for the popcorn, as Murphy watched him in her chair.

Frank clasped his hands together. "Well. There we go." He smiled.

Murphy eyed him, as he walked over to the windowsill and plopped himself down on it. Frank looked at Murphy funny, as she followed him not only with her eyes, but also with the turn of her chair.

"She kicked you out didn't she, Frank?"

"What! NO! Am I that _transparent_?"

"As paper, Frank." Murphy sat up and walked over to a sulking Frank.

"It's only temporary. She said I was driving her crazy."

"Oh, jeez, Frank, what did you do?" Murphy asked with a sense of dread.

"I was just concerned for her health. _All I_ did was watch over her and make sure she was all right. Fluff her pillows - get her drinks - get the mail. Wake up every hour to make sure she was breathing. You know stuff like that?"

"Oh, Frank…" Murphy knew what he really had done.

"Finally, she told me if I didn't find something else to do she'd have to _dismember_ me from my body parts."

"You're just like me, Frank. _Without work_ we can't find anything else to do with our lives."

"That was the problem! I had something else to do with my life. And it _revolved around_ talking care of Lesley."

"So, how long are you exiled oh cap-u-_tan_?"

"Just 'till August. Lesley says that when the weather gets better she might not be so testy. Frank paused from his self-wallowing and looked at Murphy. "Don't say it, Murphy."

"I won't. I won't." She looked around the room trying not to speak ill of Lesley.

Frank buried his head in his hands. "Plus, now that she can be up and around again she can visit some of her family in Connecticut that doesn't like me very much."

Murphy took his hand. Frank looked up at her.

"Why don't we say we don't talk about loved ones? We just talk about ourselves. Ok?"

"Ok."

"In fact, before we get too tired to think. Let's make plans to see each other again. Looks like I'm going to be real busy and who knows when I'll be able to see you again." Murphy got up and took her organizer off her desk, her paper organizer. Murphy had thrown her computerized one in a subway grate somewhere on the B line between the Park and the Museum of Natural History.

"Well, actual that might be sooner than you think. I just talked to Todd and he said I could start up my show right here. I've already been assigned an office and everything."

"Frank, that's wonderful!

"Yeah… I even have a book deal!"

"Frank! Look at you. All grown up. I'm so proud." Murphy's eyes lit up and Frank smiled shyly at Murphy's joke, turning his head to the side as if to say, "It was nothing."

"But I'll still be busy. So, let's make plans now. I want a change to come and see you and Avery. I feel like it's been forever since I've seen him." Frank took his electronic organizer out of his pocket, as they both put on their reading glasses on.

"That's right. He's been asking about you." Murphy flipped through the pages of her organizer. "How about next weekend?"

"I can't next weekend. I have to go back to D.C and pick up some things for the show."

"Ok." Murphy flipped a page and Frank hit a button with his pencil stick. "Why don't you come by tomorrow and we can hang out 'till Avery gets home from swim lessons." Murphy looked up from behind her glasses. "We'll have dinner." Then she realized something. "Or we could just meet you somewhere. We could do that. Someplace else."

"No. No I'll come over…"

"But, Frank, what about…"

"I'll come over. And then next time you come to my place."

"Ok. You're on." Murphy smiled and nodded her head. "Now quick, tell me about your book before the game comes back?"

"Check." Murphy sat back down in his chair and Frank slid himself in-between the window and the wall frame. The New York skyline glowed behind him in blacks and yellows. "It's about my years working with the New York Times…"

"Hey, Frank? When you're in DC could you pick up my mail for me? I forget to have it forwarded." Murphy asked, as she made herself comfortable in her chair.

"Sure."

"Thanks. Keep going."

"Ok. So, I thought I'd tell a few stories about how I rode with that police car for a year."

"Great idea. Don't forget the time you caught that kid trying to mug you and... Hey, Frank? How did this all come about anyway?"

"Remember that story I told you about my last time in Brooklyn. Well I was at a dinner party and I started to tell the story and…. well you never guess who was there..."

And Frank continued to talk, and even when the game came back on Murphy and Frank never paid attention to it, as they talked on into the night.

As Murphy and Frank laughed it up, as they always did, and Rachel and Jerry got to know each other again, for the first time, Miles walked the streets in the after mist of a late July rainstorm. He was alone with only himself, his thoughts and his broken heart. He walked past one of the hundreds of musicians that played on street corners, or the subway platforms, and any place where people with money were sure to pass. He came upon a man playing jazz, not just jazz but the solo saxophone. Usually, in his rush from one place to another Miles would take in only the kernels of notes for the brief moment they were in earshot, but nothing more. This time he stopped and listened to the man play the sweet sounds. The sax sounded as sad as he felt. Miles thought to himself and in a way felt a sense of comfort. It was a relaxing feeling that made Miles wondered why he hadn't stopped to hear the music before. He listened intently and with great focus, and even though his mind was somewhere else, his ears where open. Miles took a hand full of change out of his pocket, tossed it into the man's saxophone case, and walked off into the night - his hands in his pockets and his head lowered. The man on the sax just kept on playing.

Back in Washington DC, Murphy's townhouse was left alone and quiet - with only the ghost of its former inhabitance stuck in its memory. That and the piles of mail that sat on the foyer floor, now that Murphy had installed a mail slot in the door. It was there ever since old man Swenson destroyed her mailbox over a very small disagreement, in which Murphy claimed she was no way at fault.

It had been at least a month since Aretha Franklin played through its hallowed halls or since its ceilings had been etched with new images of the current political climate. The only markings that the house had been lived in and wasn't a museum was the pile of mail covering the floor, almost hitting the middle table. Not that it was a huge amount. It was just that when the new mail hit the old mail it sent it flying backwards. It was way after five o'clock and it way too late for the mailman to call, but one of Murphy's neighbors had received a letter of hers by mistake and was delivering it on his way home from work. Since Murphy had only just phoned in her request to forward her mail for the summer, it was still being delivered to her house. The man slid Murphy's letter it in the slot and drove off.

The letter slid in, and because it was so light, it floated over to the left side of the doorway, away from the pile of mail. It fell, facing up, on the black and white floor. It was a small, white envelope that would have blended in with the others if not for all the overseas mailing on it. It was addressed to Ms. Murphy Brown and it had no return address - just a faint marking in the left-hand corner with the name written next to it: J. Lowenstein. Now all it needed was to be opened.

_Heaven help the child who never had a home,  
Heaven help the girl who walks the street alone  
Heaven help the roses if the bombs begin to fall,  
Heaven help us all._

_Heaven help the black man if he struggles one more day,_  
_Heaven help the white man if he turns his back away,_  
_Heaven help the man who kicks the man who has to crawl,_  
_Heaven help us all._

_Heaven help us all, heaven help us all, help us all._  
_Heaven help us, Lord; hear our call when we call_  
_Oh, yeah!_

_Heaven help the boy who won't reach twenty-one,_  
_Heaven help the man who gave that boy a gun._  
_Heaven help the people with their backs against the wall,_  
_Lord, Heaven help us all._

_Heaven help us all, heaven help us all, heaven help us all, help us all._  
_Heaven help us, Lord; hear our call when we call._

_Now I lay me down before I go to sleep._  
_In a troubled world, I pray the Lord to keep, keep hatred from the mighty,_  
_And the mighty from the small,_  
_Heaven help us all._  
_Oh, oh, oh, yeah!_  
_Heaven help us all._

**~ Heaven Help Us ~ Stevie Wonder**

**END OF PART TWO**


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